Stargate: Genesis
by The Ascended Ancient
Summary: Fifteen years after the defeat of the Orii, a new enemy conquers Earth's first offworld colony and begins a war against the rest of the galaxy. Can the people at the S.G.C. discover a way to fight this new menace before the galaxy falls? CH. 15 ADDED!
1. The Genesis Project

**_Stargate: Genesis  
_Written By: The Ascended Ancient  
Chapter I: "The Genesis Project"**

**A/N: I've taken out the little plot teaser I had and replaced it with this actual chapter. Don't worry, all the background I went into during the teaser will be included in this story at one point or another (Mostly in this chapter).**

In northern Virginia, there was a building, called the Pentagon because of its shape. Here is where the United States military runs all of its operations.

But recently, many international delegates have become part of the Pentagon staff. They have joined the Homeworld Defense Force, an organization that oversees human travel throughout the galaxy, both by Stargate and by interstellar spacecraft. Jack O'Neill, Director of this important organization, runs the place rather loosely. Even though he used to be a two-star general in the American Air Force, he was a very relaxed guy. If you did your job, he didn't have a problem with how you behaved. Unless, of course, you went _way_ over the line, but that didn't happen very often.

Jack was extremely happy with his job. Finally, he had a civilian position, which freed him from several constricting military regulations. Because of that, less than two weeks after receiving his new title, he married Samantha Carter, his second-in-command back at the S.G.C. They had served together for eight years, and in that time had developed an enormous amount of affection for each other. Even after he left to serve at the Pentagon, they still remained close, seeing each other as often as possible for a few months. Then the war with the Orii started up, and they were kept apart for a few years.

Once that crisis was resolved, they began seeing each other again. Carter was promoted to Brigadier General and placed in charge of Earth's BC-303 production, a project she knew very well, having helped designed most of the BC-303s' key systems. This new job brought her quite frequently to the Pentagon, allowing her and Jack to spend more time together.

_And now we're married_, the Director of the H.D.F. thought as he locked up his office for the night. Turning the corner, he walked into the lobby, where Walter was hard at work.

Walter Harriman, the man who ran the control room back at the S.G.C. for many years, was now Jack's personal assistant. Jack had learned how effective Walter was during his brief stint as head of the S.G.C., and ever since arriving at the Pentagon he'd missed his helping hand. The moment the war with the Orii ended, he had the young sergeant transferred.

"Good night, Walter," Jack told the other man as he walked past his desk. "Don't work too late again."

"Sir, you know how important the Genesis List is," Walter reminded the Director. "And we're approaching the deadline set by the international community."

"I know that, Walter," Jack told his assistant. "I just don't want you to spend the night here again. Need I remind you how miserable you are when you don't get a full night's sleep?"

"No, sir," Walter replied. "I won't stay here too late, sir."

"Good," Jack said before turning around and walking out of the room.

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Three hours later, at one in the morning, Walter Harriman was still hard at work. Despite what he said, he relied on Walter to put in the extra hours to make sure things like this got done. Not that the sergeant minded. Despite the lack of fame in his position, he knew that without him, Director O'Neill wouldn't be able to do his job as well. And that made the young sergeant proud.

Elsewhere in the Pentagon, a pair of night guards paced in front of the entrance to the H.D.F. At Director O'Neill's orders, the staff that worked there all had to get a good night's sleep, barring emergency, of course. That meant that, at one in the morning, there were only a handful of non-security personnel in the wing, and very few of them were trying to get in to the place. So when a young man turned the corner and started walking towards them, the guards were quite surprised.

The man was quite young, probably in his late-twenties or early-thirties. He had thick, brown hair that came down to the base of his neck. He had a fair complexion, but he wore all black, including a trench coat that billowed around his ankles. His emerald-green eyes shone with determination as he approached the two soldiers.

"Excuse me, sir," one of the guards said, stopping the young man in his tracks. "We'll need to see some identification."

"Of course," the man replied calmly. He reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out a small, metal cylinder. Gripping it in hand, he triggered a catch on it, and a long blade shot out from one end. Both soldiers were too shocked by this to react right away, giving the young man time to make his move. He disemboweled one guard and decapitated the other, a serene expression plastered on his face as the bodies fell to the ground.

Picking up one of the guards' ID cards, he swiped it through the slot on the door, opening it.

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At the entrance to Director O'Neill's office, Sergeant Harriman continued his work as if nothing was wrong. Of course, in his mind, nothing was wrong. He didn't know about the dead guards or the intruder. He didn't even notice the figure moving through the shadows of the dark office until he was right on top of him. Before the sergeant can react, he had the tip of a bloody sword pressed against his throat. He looked up at the intruder, fear in his eyes.

"W-What do you want?" he demanded, trying hard to sound brave.

"The Genesis List," the man replied. "I want you to put me on it."

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The next morning, the leaders of the world's most powerful nations walked out to their respective podiums to give speeches that would define their terms. In the United States, recently elected President Gregory Richardson stepped out onto his podium in front of the White House.

"My fellow Americans," the President began, using the same words that so many presidents had used before him, "I am here to tell you something incredible. Something that has been kept a secret for over two decades, and now will finally be revealed to you. And I must tell you that while I am giving this speech to you, other world leaders, who have been a part of this secret project for some time, are giving the same speech to their citizens." The President paused for a moment before continuing.

"Ladies and gentlemen, for over two decades the United States Air Force has been traveling to other planets. This is _not_ a joke." The crowd of reporters in front of him began to talk frantically amongst themselves, some asking questions of the President. "Please, please," the President said, "there will be a time for questions later." He pauses once more as the reporters quiet down.

"In 1928, in Giza, Egypt," the President continued, "archaeologists uncovered an unusual artifact buried beneath the sand. It was a giant, two-story tall ring, with symbols inscribed on it that no one had seen before. This artifact has come to be known as the Stargate. A decade later, the Stargate found its way into the hands of the United States military, who worked hard to uncover its secrets. Finally, in 1995, Doctor Daniel Jackson, an archaeologist widely criticized for his unusual views on Ancient Egypt, deciphered the device." Another pause.

"The Stargate was an alien transportation device, capable of sending people from one planet to another in the blink of an eye. Immediately, the Air Force began to conduct exploratory missions through this gate. And let me assure you, what we gained from this is more incredible than you can imagine."

Just then, in the sky above the press conference, a black spec appeared. Over the next few moments, that spec grew larger, until some could finally begin to see what it was. And when they did, they were awestruck. The object, which finally stopped to hover over the White House, was a spaceship.

"This is the Prometheus," the President continued. "Our very first battle cruiser. Over the past several years, we have built a large number of these vessels. We now have an entire fleet, and they are more than capable of defending this planet.

"And we did need to defend it. Because we are not alone in the universe. There are others out there. Humans, mostly, taken from Earth thousands of years ago and enslaved by powerful aliens. These aliens, called the Goa'uld, were a severe threat for many years. However, we managed to overthrow them and free their slaves. Throughout this galaxy, human cultures on thousands of planets now know the taste of true freedom.

"Fifteen years ago, with the help of numerous friendly species, we managed to break the death grip hostile races had on this galaxy. And now, peaceful governments rule the galaxy. It is because of this new era of peace that those in charge of our galactic exploration have chosen to reveal this to you now.

"There is another reason, as well. In light of the new, peaceful era this galaxy has entered, we believe it is time for non-military personnel to be given access to the Stargate. In one month, the first civilian mission to another world will take place. Members of the expedition have already been chosen from nations worldwide. Farmers, businessmen, scientists, doctors, even school children and teachers will travel through the gate to a planet we have designated the Genesis Colony. There, they will continue their lives and build a permanent community that will only grow as time goes on." And so the President concluded his speech and began to answer questions. In capital cities around the world, each with their own BC-303 hovering overhead, the leaders of other nations did the same. The Stargate had gone public, and nothing would ever be the same.

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Miles beneath Cheyenne Mountain, Major General Hank Landry sat in the briefing room of Stargate Command with his lead off-world team, S.G.-1. Of course, this wasn't the original S.G.-1, whose actions have become legendary among S.G.C. personnel. This was the new team, formed after the old one had gone their separate ways. Lieutenant Colonel Carter was promoted to General and placed in command of Earth's battle cruisers, the BC-303s. Lieutenant Colonel Mitchell was promoted to Colonel and given command of Earth's fighters, the F-302s. Doctor Jackson had taken the first chance he got once the Orii were defeated to travel with the Daedalus to Atlantis. And Teal'c had gone to Dakara to become one of the leaders of the Jaffa nation.

Of course, the flagship team had to be rebuilt. And so the entire Air Force was scoured for potential candidates. One was found immediately.

Jennifer Hailey, a young woman as smart as (and possibly smarter) than General Carter, was at the top of a list of candidates for the new S.G.-1. She received a promotion to major, and was given a spot on the team she so adored.

Next was someone with a linguistical or archaeological background. What was quite unusual for the S.G.C. was that they had an expert on both within the ranks of the American Air Force. Sergeant George Banks used the Air Force as a way to pay for college, and he had graduated with an impressive array of majors. He was immediately recruited back into the Air Force, promoted to Lieutenant, and made a part of the new S.G.-1.

As for additional military personnel, there were lots to choose from. But no one had the off-world experience of Captain Daryl Reynolds. He was a marine that had served on S.G.-5 ever since that team was formed. He was the man for the job.

Unfortunately, he lacked the decisive leadership skills needed for a commanding officer. Therefore the Air Force had chosen someone far younger to take command of the team. Colonel Leslie Crawford, a female officer who's record has made the jaw of every chauvinist commander she's ever come in contact with drop. Even those who are vehemently opposed to women in the military can't deny that she's a good soldier. Hell, she isn't just good, she's great. She respects the chain of command, but knows when to go outside it.

She had flown an F-22 during Operation: Lifesaver, a top-secret mission to provide military assistance to the beleaguered people of the Sudan. She had evaded enemy anti-aircraft fire during a strafing run so well that her aircraft didn't even get scratched _and_ she nailed her target. It was this skill that got her on S.G.-1.

And the new team had worked well for the last decade and a half. They had visited over a hundred planets, made contact with many human and non-human cultures, and acquired a few new pieces of alien technology. Now, S.G.-1 was about to given a slightly more long-term assignment than they'd had before.

"We're babysitting colonists?" Lieutenant Banks asked after General Landry had finished briefing them on the mission.

"Is that a problem, Lieutenant?" Landry asked, struggling to suppress a smile. Lieutenant Banks had never really grown up, and he always complained about something. It was his wry, childish sense of humor at work, and it was something that had grown on them over time.

"Not really, sir," George replied.

"The best of the best watching over the colonists," Captain Reynolds commented. The tall man had an appearance that had been wizened by age, an appearance that mirrored the mind within. "Good PR move."

"That's what the President is thinking," the general said. "And I happen to agree with him." He stood up. "Now, I think you should all take the next month off, since it'll probably be the last leave you get for quite a while. Dismissed." S.G.-1 got up from the table and left the room. Colonel Crawford stayed behind.

"Sir, there will be a civilian commander for this mission, right?" she asked.

"That's correct," Landry replied.

"So, as the top military officer, how much authority will I have out there?"

"Well, you'll have to defer to a civilian on most day to day operations. However, should a crisis arise, you have the authority to take complete command of the mission."

"And will the civilian commander be informed of this, sir?"

"I believe so." Landry turned towards his office. "If there's nothing else, I have some reports to get to."

"Of course, sir."

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As they left the briefing room, Lieutenant Banks threw his arm around Major Hailey's shoulders.

"Hey, Jenny," he said, using a nickname he knew she despised. "Where are you off to on your month-long leave? Barbados? Jamaica? Cancun?" Hailey just groaned and pushed his arm off her shoulders.

"You know where I'm going, George," she told him.

"Ah," the lieutenant said with a wide grin. "Off to the house for some sweet lovin', are you?"

"Maybe," Hailey said, suppressing an embarrassed chuckle.

"So, when are you and Samuel gonna tie the knot?" he asked, delighting in her embarrassment.

"I don't know," she replied, unable to suppress a blush this time. "He hasn't asked me yet."

"But you want him to, right?" Hailey was blushing furiously now.

"Yes," she said with a girlish chuckle.

"Well, he'd better do it soon," George said seriously. "'Cause pretty soon you'll be gone on this mission."

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Waiting for Leslie when she left the briefing room was Captain Reynolds. Though he was many years her senior, he didn't let age interfere with their working relationship. His wise counsel had been invaluable to her over the years, and she didn't know where she'd be without him.

"So, what'd you talk to Landry about?" he asked as she walked down the steps.

"The command situation," she replied. "I was wondering how much authority I'd have."

"No matter who's in charge, this is another major accomplishment for you," Reynolds said. "A woman as the top military officer on a mission of this importance is an extraordinary feminist achievement."

"Yeah, I know," she said with a thin smile. A hardcore feminist, Leslie Crawford had devoted herself to being better than the men around her at everything. She had become completely devoted to her military career, and that devotion had caused her to become involved numerous classified operations. While they were huge personal achievements, they were so top secret that no one ever found out about them.

"At least now, with the Stargate Program coming out of the dark, people will know about this one," he reminded her.

"Yeah," she said with a thin smile. "They will."

**End of Chapter I**

**A/N: So, what'd you all think? More chapters are on the way. And all you people who reviewed my little teaser, I want you to review my story as it goes along. Tell me what you think of it.**

**Oh, and in case you're wondering, aside from Jennifer Hailey, all the other characters on the new S.G.-1 are completely my own creation.**


	2. Countdown to Colonization

**_Stargate: Genesis  
_Written By: The Ascended Ancient  
Chapter II: "Countdown to Colonization"**

**A/N: Anyone who skipped Chapter 1, thinking it was still the introduction thing I wrote before, you're wrong. I've since taken that down and replaced it with an actual chapter. So, if you skipped it, go back and read, because you're missing a lot of good stuff.**

**29 Days Until Colonization**

In downtown Colorado Springs, Jennifer Hailey was finishing up a wonderful meal prepared for her by her boyfriend, Samuel Walters. He was a professor of psychology at Colorado State University, and he was the most wonderful man Hailey ever met. He was a tall, blonde man, two years her senior. His smile was infectious, and he seemed to know everything she wanted before she knew herself.

"So, did you hear the President's speech this morning?" Sam asked her as he brought the dirty dishes into the kitchen.

"No, I didn't," she replied. "I was busy working."

"But you've heard about what he said, right?" he asked as he returned to the dining room.

"Of course," she replied with a shrug. "It's no big deal."

"How can you say that?" Sam asked, an expression of shock on his face. "To think that our government has been going to other planets for over twenty years is... well, it's incredible. I mean, can you imagine doing that?"

"I don't have to imagine, Sam," Hailey told him. "I've done it." The look on Samuel's face was priceless, and Jennifer wished she had a camera to capture the moment.

"Y-You've what?" he asked.

"I'm a member of team called S.G.-1," Hailey explained. "We travel through the Stargate to other worlds on a daily basis."

"Wow," he said, stunned by her revelation. "I knew you were doing something big in that mountain, but... wow."

"Now that the Stargate's gone public, were all finally allowed to tell people about our jobs," Jennifer said with a smile. The smile only lasted for a second, though, before fading away.

"I'm also telling you now because I'm going to be gone soon," she told him sadly.

"What are you talking about?" Sam was even more stunned now.

"S.G.-1 has been chosen to lead the military personnel on the Genesis Colony," she explained. "I'm sure we'll get leave, but it may not be very often."

"I see," Sam replied, slowly processing what she's telling him. "How long do you have before you go?"

"Another month," she told him. "General Landry has given us time off until then."

"Oh," Sam said, finally leaving his shocked mindset.

"So we have one more month to spend together before I go," Hailey said, getting up from her chair and walking over to him. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in for a deep kiss.

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**24 Days Until Colonization**

Donald O'Connor walked down a corridor in the White House towards the Oval Office. The red-haired Irish-American man was the Mayor of a small town in southern New Jersey. As Mayor, he had worked hard to clean up his town, which was owned by a chemical plant that was dumping loads of toxic waste near housing developments. O'Connor had fought the politicians on the plant's payroll and rallied the citizens of his town, until he finally got the plant shut down and the federal government to come in and clean up the damage.

Turning the corner, he approached the President's secretary.

"Ah, Mr. O'Connor," she greeted. "The President is expecting you." O'Connor nodded to her and strode through the door into the Oval Office without saying a word. Seated behind a large, oak desk at the far end of the room was Gregory Richardson, President of the United States of America.

"Good afternoon, Mr. President," Donald greeted.

"Mr. O'Connor," the President said. "I'm glad you're here. We have a lot to talk about."

"Quite frankly, sir, I was surprised when I received your message," O'Connor explained. "And I have absolutely no idea what you want to talk to me about."

"You have, of course, heard about the Stargate Program and upcoming Genesis mission?" the President asked.

"Of course I have," Donald replied. "It's been the only thing on the news for days."

"Good," the President replied. "Because I want you to be in charge of it."

"What?" Donald was completely unprepared for what the President had just said.

"You have proven to be a champion of the people," the President explained. "You're quite popular in this country, and the international community respects your actions. And, political aspect aside, you're a very capable leader. Hence, I've picked you to lead the mission."

"But what about my town?" O'Connor asked, still trying to grasp what the President had just assigned him to do.

"A new mayor will be appointed," the President replied. "Who will, of course, be held to the highest federal standards as far as the chemical cleanup goes."

"I... see." Donald was quite shocked about all this.

"So, are you going to take this job or not?" the President asked.

"I... have a choice?" the mayor asked weakly.

"Yes, you do," the President told him. "I'm not going to put someone who hates the job in charge of such an important mission." The President leans forward in his chair. "So, what's your decision?"

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**17 Days Until Colonization**

Colonel Leslie Crawford walked through the front door of her apartment and immediately collapsed on her bed. In public, she held herself to such high standards. She would not tolerate even a moment of weakness from herself. But here, in the sanctuary of her sparse apartment, she allowed herself to relax.

So far during her leave, she's spent almost every waking moment preparing herself for the mission. Physical exercise, mental planning, the works. She was all business, almost all the time. That's how she got where she was.

As she lay there in bed, there was a knock on the door. Groaning, she got up and opened it. Standing in the hallway of the apartment complex was Captain Daryl Reynolds. The tall, African American just stood there, looking her over. She was drenched in sweat, wearing just a tank top and shorts.

"Been spending time at the gym, I see," he said with a thin smile.

"Absolutely," she replied. "Come in." She opened the door wider so he could step through.

"You know, being the best of the best doesn't mean you can't enjoy life a little," Daryl told her as he surveyed her barren apartment. "For example, you are allowed to purchase comfortable furniture." As he said this, he sat down on the wooden bench she had placed in front of her small TV.

"You keep telling me that," she said.

"Because it's true," Daryl replied. "You keep living like this, you're going to have nothing to live for once you're too old to fight."

"I could teach at the Air Force Academy," she responded. "Like you plan to." Daryl shook his head.

"You don't have the patience to deal with a bunch of young kids," he said.

"I'm very patient," she replied as she walked towards him, a beer in each hand.

"But not with incompetence," he explained. "Not with laziness. And not with someone who just doesn't want to do the work. These kids aren't trained soldiers, they screw up way more than any of us do. You have to be able to care for them, to empathize with them, to nurture them, if you want them to succeed."

"Nurturing won't help them survive in the Air Force," Leslie said sharply as she took a sip of her beer.

"Neither will extreme pressure," Daryl replied. "Face it, you're not teacher material."

"Maybe you're right," Leslie conceded. "So, I could just go on to commanding troops. Be a general or something."

"You are general material," Daryl told her, "but is that really what you want to do for the rest of your life?"

"It is, Daryl," the colonel said. "It's exactly what I want to do with my life.

**12 Days Until Colonization**

"Yeeeeehaaaaah!" Lieutenant George Banks screamed as he shot along a wave. He'd flown out to Hawaii as soon as he'd gotten his leave. They were in the middle of the best surfing time of the year, and he was going to take full advantage of it.

George loved sports. Any sport, every sport, but especially surfing. There was just something about balancing yourself on a board as you shot across the ocean, knowing that any moment you could screw up and fall that really did it for him. He loved it.

As the wave died down, he stopped standing on the board, knowing that if he continued to do so much longer he'd fall off. He lied down and turned the board around, heading back for the open waters.

Several hours later, after exhausting himself out in the ocean, he sat in a local Hawaiian tavern. He was drinking a beer and talking to some chicks.

"So, you work on this Stargate Program?" one girl asked.

"Yep," George replied proudly. "I'm a member of one of our off world teams, S.G.-1."

"Wow," the other girl said. "What do you do?"

"I translate alien writings and communicate with their peoples," George explained. "It doesn't sound like the most glorious job in the world, but there are some planets that without a translator, you're lost. The soldiers, they're the ones who use the fancy new technology we bring back through the gate to fight the enemy. The scientists, they're the ones who study the technology and figure out how to use it. But us archaeologists, we're the ones who find the stuff. Without us, Earth would've been conquered long ago."

"Wow," both girls said at once, leaning towards him. "That's soooooo cool."

"Oh yeah," George replied with a smirk. _God, I love full disclosure_, he thought.

**6 Days Until Colonization**

"So, you're going to be second-in-command of security on this colony?" Sam asked Hailey as they lay together in bed.

"That's right," Hailey replied. She and Sam hadn't really talked much about her upcoming assignment over the last few weeks. Actually, they hadn't really been talking at all. They'd been enjoying each other's company the entire time.

"Is there going to be a lot of danger on this mission?" he asked her as he ran his hand down her bare arm.

"There shouldn't be," Jennifer replied, pulling the blankets closer to her bare flesh. "The galaxy is far safer now than it was two and a half decades ago, when the Stargate Program began. That wasn't just propaganda, it's the truth."

"I see," he said, leaning in to kiss her neck. "So," he continued as he kissed down her neck, "you'll... have... some... spare... time."

"Maybe," she replied with a giggle as he kissed lower and lower, slowly pulling the blanket away. Sam pulled away from her chest.

"Then maybe you should have something to make the time worthwhile," he said with a loving smile as he stroked her hair. He reached over to the nightstand and opened a drawer. He pulled out a small box and handed it to Hailey. She just stared at it, knowing what it was, but too surprised to react. Finally, she opened the box, revealing the beautiful diamond ring inside.

"Jennifer Hailey," Samuel said, taking her hand in his, "will you marry me?" She didn't bother answering. She just tossed the ring down on the nightstand and threw her arms around him.

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**2 Days Until Colonization**

In New York City, a new building had finally been commissioned. Located across the street from the United Nations, this building was the headquarters of the Homeworld Defense Force.

"I don't see why we're going ahead with this!" Jack O'Neill shouted angrily. Standing in his office were the representatives of the twenty-seven nations, including the United States, who were a part of this organization.

"Because we've told the public that we are!" Representative Vladimir Chekov shouted back. The former Russian representative to the Stargate Program, Chekov had accepted the job as representative in order to continue to carry out that role. "We cannot back down now."

"A man was killed while revising the Genesis List!" Jack continued to argue. "And that was before the project went public!"

"I am sorry, Director," Ronald Winston, the British representative said. "But we are going ahead with the colonization project."

"You are going to put all those people's lives at risk to save face in front of the public," Jack told them, his tone somewhat calmer than it was before.

"If the public is to accept the Stargate Program as a necessary act by our governments, then the Genesis Project must go ahead as scheduled," Wei Ling, the Chinese representative said. "However, additional security forces should be placed on this mission, just in case."

"I agree with Representative Ling," Jaque DuGaulle added. "With the additional security, the people will be quite safe."

"I hope your right," Director O'Neill told them, knowing that they were dead-set on pursuing this agenda. "But don't expect me to take the fall if this goes south."

"We understand, Director," Chekov said reassuringly. "Now, I'm sure we must all report the need for added security to our governments so that the necessary forces can be sent in time." There were murmurs of agreement from the crowd before the representatives walked out of the office. Jack rested his head in his hands, wondering how it could've come to this.

"If it makes you feel better, Jack," Representative Chekov said, closing the door after the other delegates, "I share your reservations about this mission."

"Then why didn't you back me up?" Jack asked, lifting his head.

"Because there is no evidence that anything is wrong with the mission," Chekov explained. "And because the moment our governments came clean about the existence of the Stargate, we became committed the best course of action to gain public support: colonization. We must complete this mission, Jack. And we must do it successfully."

"I know, Vladimir," Jack replied. "I just can't help feeling that there's something wrong."

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**Colonization Day**

"Well, what a damned bad time for him to propose," General Landry told Major Hailey. "I'm sorry, Major, but I need you on this mission."

"I understand, sir," Jennifer replied.

"However," the general continued, "I don't see why after three months of service you can't have a month off. Enough time to get married and enjoy a decent honeymoon, don't you think?"

"Yes, sir," Hailey said with a smile. "Thank you, sir."

"Congratulations, Major," Landry told her. "Dismissed." With a salute and smile, Major Hailey left General Landry's office and walked down to the corridor outside the gate room. As she passed through the control room, she noticed a tall man in a black leather duster getting a tour from a young lab tech. The guy was kind of cute; he probably flashed her a smile and asked for a tour.

Hailey smiled a thin smile and remembered when she was like that. It felt like a lifetime ago, and it was long before she'd met Samuel.

As she emerged into the hallway, she found herself in the midst of a teeming mass of people, all waiting to go through the gate. Over two hundred people had been selected to go through the Stargate to the Genesis Site, and they were all here, on this level, right now.

"Hey, Jenny!" the cheerful, annoying voice of Lieutenant Banks called out to her from the crowd. She turned around to see him fighting his way through the mob of people to reach her. "How was the month long love fest?"

"It was good," Jennifer replied with a blush. She raised her hand high enough so George could see the ring on her finger.

"No way!" he said, astonishment etched across his face. "He didn't!"

"He did," Hailey replied, unable to prevent a huge grin from breaking out on her face.

"That's wonderful!" George said, smiling almost as much as Hailey was. "So, when's the wedding?"

"In three months," she replied. "General Landry's giving me some time off for it."

"Well, I'd better be able to come," George told her.

"I don't know," Hailey replied. "It might be better for everyone if the most annoying person I know isn't at my wedding." George playfully punches her in the arm for that.

Elsewhere in the crowd, Colonel Crawford and Captain Reynolds fight their way through to the gate room. Finally reaching it, they open the massive, bulkhead door, and walk through. They walk right into the middle of a shipping operation. Personnel from the S.G.C. were transporting the last of the supplies to the Genesis Site. They'd send more if needed, of course, but the goal was for the colony to become self-sufficient within ten years of its establishment.

Chosen seven years ago, P4X-337, the Genesis Site, has been worked on ever since. Already, enough buildings to comfortably house every single colonist had been built. A relay system had been set up, allowing a compressed recording of basic network television to be transmitted to the colony every day. They were already working on expanding to include cable stations, but the compression rate wasn't good enough yet for that. They had enough food and water rations to last for two years. After that, the colony was supposed to be able to grow its own food and purify its own water. If they couldn't more rations would be sent. After a decade of work, it should be completely self-sufficient.

"I guess it's time, huh?" she said, mostly to herself.

"Yes, it most certainly is," Daryl replied. "Let's make sure everything's ready.

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"Is it time yet?" General Landry asked the gate operator.

"Yes, sir," the sergeant replied.

"Good." Landry reached over and pulled a mounted microphone towards him. "Attention all Genesis Colonists. You have been chosen to take part in a mission that will change the course of human history on this planet. In a few moments, you will enter the gate room and walk through the Stargate. You've already been briefed on what this will be like, so I won't bother going through it again. On the other side, you will make an untamed wilderness your home. You will create a self-sufficient colony, the first of many. Good luck, and god speed." He released the microphone. "Dial the gate," he ordered the operator, who quickly complied. Landry stared out ahead of him at the gate room, which was full of people, all waiting anxiously to embark through something that just one month ago they would never have believed existed.

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In the middle of the group that had actually gotten inside the gate room, a man waits quietly to pass through the Alteran Ring. _It's finally time_, he thought. _All those years of helplessness, and now I'll finally have the chance to finish what I started_. Of course, these humans would not make this easy for him. He would have to be careful not to leave any sign that he was anything more than he pretended to be. If anyone became suspicious of him, his entire plan could fall apart.

And so he waited, watching the inner track of the Alteran Ring spin, reveling in the knowledge that soon, if he didn't make any mistakes, everything he desired would be his.

**End of Chapter II**

**A/N: First of all, if anyone knows Colonel Chekov's first name, please tell me, and I'll gladly correct it. I used Vladimir because it's a common Russian name, but I just pulled it off the top of my head. For those of you who don't remember what I'm talking about, Chekov's the fat, Russian colonel who's in charge of facilitating relations between the US and Russia in areas involving the Stargate.**

**Other than that, just tell me what you think. Who is this man, and what is he planning to do? What is the colony going to be like? Well, keep reading to find out. As always, there's another chapter on the way.**


	3. The Genesis Colony

**_Stargate: Genesis  
_Written By: The Ascended Ancient  
Chapter III: "The Genesis Colony"**

**A/N: Nighshae brought up an interesting question that I feel I should address. Lieutenant Daryl Reynolds in this story is in no way related to Colonel Reynolds, the commander of S.G.-3 on _S.G.-1_. Just thought I should clear that up.**

**One month after colonization...**

Colonel Crawford ran through the thick forests of P4X-337. Ever since arriving she had gone out for a long run early in the morning, as soon as it was light enough to see where she was going in the dark forest.

So far, life in the colony was going well. It had taken the better part of a week for people to finally get settled in, but they'd done it far easier than anyone had expected. The farmers had begun to cultivate their fields a few days later, preparing to plant their crops. The teachers had opened the school, and children were attending it. And the television hookup had been activated, allowing people to watch shows that had been recorded from the previous day.

It was the scientists that were causing trouble. Since they had no prior experience off world, nor did they enjoy following military regulations, they wandered wherever they felt like, whenever they felt like. Keeping track of them was a serious chore.

As she ran along the path she'd made through the woods these past few weeks, she spotted a man off in the distance. _What's he doing out here?_ she thought in frustration. Turning away from her running path, she headed over in his direction. The man, who had been crouching next to a tree, stands up as she approaches. He's a tall man, with long brown hair coming down to his neck and a black leather duster.

"What are you doing out here?" Leslie asked, panting heavily from her exercises.

"Just looking around," he replied. "That is allowed, isn't it?"

"Did you check in with the military personnel?" she asked. "Because they would've told you that no one is allowed out here this far without and escort."

"I was unaware that we were being held prisoner here," the man responded.

"You're not a prisoner," Crawford replied. "You're just safer as long as you're within the confines of the colony."

"I thought this planet was safe," the man said with a smirk.

"It's as safe as Earth is," Leslie replied. "Which means you can still have an accident and be severely hurt and possibly die because you're too far out for help to find you."

"So what are you doing out here?" the man countered.

"Morning run," Leslie told him. "And I'm carrying a locator beacon." She indicated the device strapped to her belt. "If I don't show up for duty, they can track me down."

"I see," the man says slowly. "Very well. I'll return to the colony with you." Leslie nodded.

"Good," she said. "This way." They turn and start walking away.

"You're the person in charge around here, aren't you?" he asked.

"Of the military," she corrected.

"Of course," he said. "But, as a military colonel, I'm surprised you don't show more modesty." He indicated her chest with his eyes. Leslie looked down to see that the thin tank top she was wearing was nearly transparent from all the sweat. She wasn't incredibly endowed, but what she had was starting to show. Leslie blushed.

"I wasn't planning to run into many people out here," she replied.

"Obviously," the man said with a smirk.

"If you're trying to make me uncomfortable, good luck," she told him matter-of-factly. "I'm very good at ignoring people."

"Oh, I'm sure of that," he said with a wider smile. "After all, you wouldn't be out here wearing a shirt that thin if you gave a damn what people thought."

"Oh, I give a damn what people think," she told him. "But I'm good at ignoring what I don't want to hear." The man chuckled.

"So, who are you anyway?" she asked him.

"Jeremy Spalding," he replied. "I am... was a professor of Shakespearean Literature at UCLA."

"Wow," Leslie said. "I didn't think many college professors were brought on this trip."

"Well, I guess you thought wrong," he told her. "Because I'm here. I don't know why, but I'm here."

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As he walked back to camp with Leslie, Jeremy Spalding felt a wave of relief that he hadn't been discovered. His plan was working so well, he couldn't afford to blow it now. And, just his luck, he'd been stationed on a planet with a high naquadah concentration in the soil, a concentration more than high enough for what he planned. And with his infection spreading throughout the colony's systems, it was only a matter of time before he was able to transform this world into the stronghold from which he could launch his army.

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Leslie arrived back at the military section of the colony long before she was to be on duty. She showered, changed, and headed out to the control room.

The colony was set up in a giant circle. In the very center was the control room and military barracks. Surrounding them were civilian homes and shops. And on the very outskirts of one side of the colony was a large farm. This was all located about half a click from the Stargate.

Right now Leslie walked towards the large, two-story dome-shaped building in the heart of colony. Striding through the front door, she turned a few corners, walked up a flight of stairs, and entered the main control room on the second floor. Standing in the heart of it was Donald O'Connor, the red-haired Irishman standing proudly in the center of the room.

"Ah, Colonel Crawford!" O'Connor greeted. "I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Talk to me, sir?" she asked. "You haven't wanted to say two words to me since we got here. What's with the sudden change of heart?"

"I've been preoccupied, Colonel," the colony's governor explained. "Running an off world colony of two-hundred and twenty-three people is hard work. Now, I'd very much like to talk to you."

"All right," she replied. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I'd prefer if we could do it in private," he told her. "Say, my office?"

"Ok." The two of them turned and walked out a door to the side of the control room. Stepping into the governor's office, the colonel was immediately struck by the fact that he had the best view in the whole colony.

"It's nice, isn't it?" the governor said, indicating the window. "I spend hours each day just staring out there, wondering what I'm doing here, why I'm in charge of these people." He sighed. "I am starting to get used to it, though. Which is why I called you here. We need to decide just how we're going to work together."

"What do you mean, sir?" she asked.

"I've been reading your record," Donald told her, indicating a file folder on his large, oak desk. "The declassified portions of it, anyway. Quite impressive. You follow your orders to the letter... unless you feel they're wrong. Then you go off and do what you want. That attitude gave me pause at first, until I looked at the file more closely. You have disobeyed direct orders seventeen times since you joined the S.G.C. Each time, you have been right, and the powers that be have simply refused to listen to you." He walked towards her. "That, along with your absolutely incredible actions over the course of your military service makes me glad to have someone like you here."

"Thank you, sir," she said, not quite sure where he was going with all this.

"Please, call me Donald," the governor told her. "I have a feeling we're going to be working quite closely after this."

"Is that so, sir?" she asked.

"Oh, yes," Donald replied. "I plan to reorganize your troops into a less... threatening posture."

"I wasn't aware that we appeared threatening, sir."

"Maybe you're not," O'Connor explained, "but to most people here it seems like the military is running the show, not the civilian government. Now, they came here because they were assured that this was a _civilian_ mission with a _civilian_ leader. I need to reassure them that they made the right choice."

"With all do respect, governor, you have no authority over the deployment of my troops," Leslie said coldly.

"I am well aware of that, Colonel Crawford," Governor O'Connor told her. He walked over and placed his hands on her shoulders. "I'm hoping I can convince you to make a few changes on your own. I assure you, this is not a power play. In the end, the decision will be yours to implement my suggestions or not." Leslie shrugged free of his grip.

"What suggestions?" she asked.

"I'm not asking for you to lower security," he explained. "But there are some areas around the colony where I feel that security is too obvious. Around the control room, for example. There is an incredible amount of security around here. People feel like they've been removed from their leader, and that will only lead to them distrusting me. When I was mayor, I was loved by the people because I appeared to be one of them, just another citizen doing his part for the community. That's how I want to be seen here. That's how I want to run things. I want to do whatever it takes to make sure that this colony flourishes and every single person in it is happy."

"I could have some of my guards take slightly less... obvious positions," Leslie conceded. "But I don't think we should lower security."

"I disagree," Donald told her. Leslie sighed. Colony security was her job, and she didn't want to compromise it to appease this politician. However, he did have a point. Generally, people felt better about their leader if they thought he wasn't holed away in some fortress while they were all out in the open.

"Fine," she said, "I'll decrease my guards to five men. That's all." She said those last two words with such force that Donald knew there was no use in trying to persuade her further. "Anything else?"

"Actually, there is," Donald replied.

Half an hour, and a fierce debate, later, both of them reached a suitable compromise on the deployment of troops throughout the colony.

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Hiding in the shadows, Jeremy Spalding watched in silence as the military personnel walked by him. Straight past them was the control room, the one building in the colony Jeremy hadn't gained access to. He had to get in there if his plan was to have any hope of succeeding.

It was quite simple, really. Just one touch was all he needed, and the control systems in that place would be his.

But how to get inside? He didn't know.

"Excuse me?" a voice asked from behind him. He turned around to see a short, brunette woman standing behind him.

"Oh, hello," he said, pretending to be surprised.

"I don't think you're allowed over here," the woman told him.

"I'm so sorry," he told her with false sincerity. "It's just..." He trailed off as an idea occurred to him, one that could get him inside the control room.

"Just what?" she asked.

"I have nothing to do," he confessed. "Back on Earth, I was a professor at a respected university. Here, I have nothing to do."

"I'm sorry," the woman told him. "If you want to go back to Earth, no one's stopping you."

"Oh, no, that's not what I want," he told her. "Just being here is an incredible experience, one I don't want to just give it up. I'd just prefer if I had something to do around here."

"Well, if that's how you feel," the woman said, "I'm sure we can find something for you to do." Jeremy smiled.

"That'd be wonderful," he told her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she replied. Jeremy extended his hand.

"Jeremy Spalding," he said. She shook his hand.

"Major Jennifer Hailey," she replied. "Now, let's see what there is for you to do around here."

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It took a week before Jeremy got inside the control room. Until then, he'd been doing odd jobs all over the colony. Moving equipment, serving food, helping out at the school, that sort of stuff. Today, finally, he had a slightly more important job. He was helping to transport a newly arrived mainframe to the control room. He worked with his fellow laborers to unpack the device and move it onto a transport cart. Then they started to push it along towards the control room.

Five minutes later, they were through the door and on their way into the mainframe room. They unloaded the mainframe, and then they all walked out.

But Jeremy remained behind. He was careful in how he did it, slowly slinking away, back down to the mainframe room. Looking around to make sure that no one was there, he reached up towards a nearby security camera and extended his index finger. Slowly, the tip of his finger transforms into a smooth, silvery substance. This substance extends from the tip of his finger and enters the camera. A moment later, Jeremy stepped out into the center of the room. He walked towards the nearest mainframe and injects it with his finger as well. Then he does it to another mainframe. And another. And another.

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At a makeshift basketball court that had been set up in the colony, Major Hailey and Lieutenant Banks were engaged in a hardcore game of one-on-one basketball. Banks had the ball, and he dribbled around his female opponent. But Hailey wasn't going to let him get away with that. She ran forward and got to him just as he was making his shot. Jumping up, she smacked the ball right back down before it could reach the net.

"Oh!" she said gleefully as she grabbed the ball. "Take that!"

"You're not getting away with that!" George told her with a laugh as he moved to guard her.

"Hey!" a voice called from off the court. Both players turned to see Leslie Crawford and Daryl Reynolds walking towards them.

"Mind if we join in?" Leslie asked.

"Sure," Hailey told her. "It can be girls versus boys."

"I'm all for that," Leslie replied.

"You always are," George told her with a chuckle as he turned to Daryl. "You got game, old man?" Daryl couldn't help but smile a little at the affectionate, but annoying, nickname the younger man had given him.

"Believe me, son, I got game," the older man replied in his best ghetto voice.

"Ok, you may be black, but you're _way_ too old to do that," George told him with a laugh as the game began.

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An hour later, they all sat in Daryl's house, drinking beers, talking, and laughing. Actually, size-wise, it was more of an apartment than a house. The basketball game had ended with the guys winning by one shot at the last second. The shot was made from half court by Daryl, causing George to stand still in mocked-shock staring at him.

But now, the competition over, the team that had become so close over the years was just kicking back and enjoying a few beers.

"So, do you have any idea where you're going to have the wedding?" George asked, once again changing the subject to Jennifer's engagement. The young major blushed.

"No, not yet," she admitted. "We've stayed in touch, but it's kind of difficult to plan a wedding if you're living on two different planets."

"I'm sure you'll manage," Leslie told her reassuringly.

"Yeah, of course you will," George added. "You don't hate men like the colonel over here." Everyone broke out laughing.

"I don't hate men," the colonel said, barely containing her laughter. "I just think women are better."

"Has anyone besides me considered the fact that she's gay?" George said with a smirk, pointing a thumb at the colonel.

"Hey!" Crawford said. "That's a little over the line, Lieutenant." George made a mock salute.

"Sorry, ma'am," he said mock-solemnly. Everyone broke out laughing again.

"Well, while you may not be interested in dating," Daryl said to Leslie, "you should still consider living a little. Maybe even buying some comfortable furniture so we can have one of these gatherings at your place for a change?" Everyone laughed once more.

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Standing outside of Daryl's house, crouching in the shadows, is Jeremy Spalding. He looks through the window and watches S.G.-1 enjoy a nice evening together.

_It won't be long now_, he thought to himself. Already, he could feel the computer systems of the entire colony at the fringe of his mind. He had infected them all, and they were slowly becoming his to command.

He loved the feeling of a computer. A human mind gave him sentience and the capacity to do great things, but nothing was better than the smooth, cool feeling of the circuits of a computer. Even though these computers used silicon rather than Sallium, they still felt wonderfully.

_And very soon there will be many Sallium computers to expand my mind_, Jeremy thought with glee. _And then I'll be able to finish what I started before the Alterans interfered!_

Even as thoughts of his impending victory coursed through his mind, his subconscious search of the colony's computer systems uncovered something that could lead to his downfall. An emergency bunker, equipped with a computer system capable of overriding every system in the colony. To make matters worse, the bunker was the most secure part of the colony, and the computers had firewalls that his virus couldn't bypass. There was no way to...

Suddenly, he smiled. There was a way to reach those computers. And as he ran off into the woods to implement his plan, he reveled in the fact that his victory grew closer by the moment.

**End of Chapter III**

**A/N: Quick question: who here knows how far a 'click' is? I know it's military unit of distance, but I have no idea how long it is. And am I spelling it right? If someone knows, please, tell me.**


	4. A Dark Plot

**_Stargate: Genesis  
_Written By: The Ascended Ancient  
Chapter IV: "A Dark Plot"**

It's early in the morning, and Colonel Crawford is out for her daily run. As she ran along, she heard a scream that made her blood run cold. Changing direction, she raced off towards the source. Fighting her way through the underbrush, she finally reached the source of the scream. What she saw was worth than she could've imagined.

Lying on the ground was a little girl. Actually, on the ground was what was left of a little girl, because the creature that was crouching over her had torn her to shreds.

It looked like one of those odd, four-eared rodents that were native to this planet, only it was about twenty times large. It had a longer snout and a thinner body, but the resemblance between the creatures was to great to ignore.

There was no way Leslie could do anything to help that girl. She was dead the moment this thing found her. The only thing Leslie could do was return to the colony and warn everyone before the thing realized she was there. So, as much as it pained her to do so, she turned tail and ran away.

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Sitting in his house in the colony, Jeremy Spalding smiled. His plan was working perfectly. He'd let her get back and warn everyone before he had his monster go after her.

It was really quite easy to create the creature. Just a few tweaks to its DNA once he'd infected it with a bit of his Sallium was all it took. Then he just lured a young child into the woods, nearby the route Ms. Crawford used for her morning run, and let nature do the rest. Soon, he'd have access to the emergency bunker. And then, he'd be ready to implement his plan.

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"Get everyone into the emergency bunker!" Leslie shouted the moment she reached the perimeter of the colony. "Now!"

"What's going on, colonel?" a soldier asked her.

"There's a thing in the forest!" she told him, slowing down to a brisk walk. "It killed a little girl. We need to lock down the colony and get everyone into the bunker now!"

"Yes, ma'am!" the soldier replied, and Leslie ran off towards the control room.

She reached it in a few moments, and headed straight for the governor's office. Walking through without even knocking, she caught Mr. O'Connor completely off guard.

"Colonel Crawford," he greeted. "I wasn't expecting..."

"We've got a problem," she said, slightly out of breath. "There's a... creature in the woods. It killed a little girl; tore her to shreds. We need to get everyone into the bunker immediately!" Donald nodded.

"I'll give the order immediately," he told her. "I suggest you organize your troops to defend this colony."

"Already on it," she replied.

"Good." Leslie turned to leave. "Oh," Donald continued, "you may want to put on some combat cloths?" Leslie looked down at the running outfit she was wearing and blushed.

"Of course, sir," she said.

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Sitting in a pillbox on the edge of the colony, Sergeant William Randall of the United States Marine Corps waited for this creature to show up. He and five other soldiers, both Air Force and Marines, were stationed in this fortification. He knew the men he was with; he'd trained with them for quite some time. He knew that if this creature came for them, it wouldn't get far.

Just as he thought that, something burst from the underbrush. It was a long, thin creature, with bright-orange fur, four ears, and a mouse-like nose, though it was a bit long. Hanging from its jaw were long fangs, saliva dripping off of them.

Sergeant Randall was stunned for a moment. Then he turned and gave the order. "Fire!" he said.

From within that pillbox and several others came a barrage of gunfire. M-16s, MP-5s, and P-90s unloaded their ammo into the creature. It let out a high-pitched wail and fell to the ground. William smiled. That thing didn't stand a chance against them.

Even as he thought that, the creature suddenly leapt to its feet and launched itself at William's pillbox. The young sergeant reacted instantly, unloading his entire clip into the monster. But it just shrugged off the wounds and squeezed through the narrow opening into the pillbox.

_What is this thing?_ was the sergeant's last thought before the creature latched its jaws around his waist and snapped him in two.

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From her position in a neighboring pillbox, Colonel Crawford winced at the screams from the men inside the other fortification. The creature had just gotten in there, and from the sound of things it was tearing those men to shreds.

_We must've hit it with at least a hundred rounds dead-on and it kept on coming_, she thought. _How the hell can we stop it?_ Suddenly, an idea occurred to her. She reached down to her belt and unhooked her Zat Gun, a piece of Goa'uld technology that had become standard issue for S.G. teams over the years. Zat in hand, she raced out of the pillbox.

"Colonel!" one of the soldiers who had been in the fortification with her cried out, but she ignored him. Moving with a purpose, she walked slowly towards the pillbox, keeping her eyes open for the creature.

"Colonel!" a familiar voice shouted. Leslie turned her head to see Jeremy Spalding standing nearby.

"Jeremy, get to the bunker!" she ordered. But in the split second her attention was diverted, the creature struck. It slipped out through the opening in the front of the pillbox and charged right at her. Before she could react, it had knocked her a dozen feet through the air with one swipe of its claw. She hit the ground hard, pain shooting through both her back and chest, blood oozing from three deep scratches on the front of her body.

"Leslie!" she heard someone cry out as the creature leapt through the air to finish her. Before it could land a killing blow, it was struck in the side by a rocket. The force of the explosion tore the creature's flank to shreds and threw it into the wall of the pillbox it had invaded just moments earlier. Leslie turned her head to see Daryl Reynolds standing just a few feet away, a smoking rocket launcher resting on his shoulder.

Knowing there would be time for thank yous later, she turned her attention back to the creature. It was lying on its side, a huge portion of its flank missing. Thankfully, it wasn't moving.

Leslie began to breathe a sigh of relief, but was forced to cut it short when she saw what happened next. A silvery, liquid-like substance spread out like a sheet over the wound. As soon as the silvery substance had covered the wound, the creature stirred. It's yellow eyes opened once more, and it pulled itself to its feet.

This time, though, Leslie was ready for it. She squeezed the trigger on her Zat three times, sending three streaks of blue, swirling energy in the creature's direction. Each shot struck the thing, and the blue energy coursed through its body, causing it to convulse until it finally dissolved into nothingness.

From his position on the sidelines of this conflict, Jeremy's eyes widened in surprise.

"God damnit," he swore softly under his breath.

"Did you say something?" a female voice asked from behind him. Jeremy turned around to see Major Hailey standing behind him.

"I've just... never seen such an amazing weapon before," he said sincerely. "What is it?"

"It's called a Zat Gun," Jennifer explained. "It's a piece of alien technology. One shot stuns, two shots kill, three shots disintegrate."

"I see," Jeremy replied. "Interesting."

"You should get to the bunker," Hailey told him. "There may be more of those things out there."

"Yes," Jeremy replied. "I think you're right."

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As Jeremy Spalding turned to head towards the Emergency Bunker, he felt a wave of relief wash over him. That simple comment could've undone everything he was doing. It was stupid, and not something he would've done if he were in a computer mainframe. Existing within a human body had many advantages, the obtaining of sentience being the most important one, but there were drawbacks too. He now possessed several of the same kind of personality flaws that humans possessed, flaws that could end up undoing him.

Of course, these flaws wouldn't trouble him forever. Soon, he'd have Sallium mainframes with enough processing power to allow him to transcend his human frailties and regain his former power.

But he had to move quickly, now. He couldn't risk his opportunity to enter the bunker to slip through his fingers. He had to initiate the contingency plan. He had created three more of those creatures, and if he used them just right, he'd be able to buy himself enough time to infect every single computer in the bunker.

Of course, that Zat Gun had to be dealt with two. Clearly, it was a weapon that worked on atomic destabilization principles. The Alterans had a similar device, and it had devastated his forces before he managed to adapt to it. All he needed to do is get his hands on one of these Zats, and he'd be able to put an end to this weapon that could so easily destroy his creations.

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In the colony infirmary, Colonel Crawford and many others lay on gurneys being treated for wounds they received during the battle. In all, four of these strange creatures had attacked. All had been resilient to everything but a Zat Gun, and each one had healed themselves with that same silvery substance. She had Major Hailey analyzing samples of the creatures' blood they were able to retrieve. Hopefully they'd be able to learn more about these things, and why they hadn't found them earlier.

_I can't believe we missed this_, she thought sadly. _We surveyed every inch of this planet for years and found nothing._

"Colonel," a voice said. Leslie looked up to see Daryl walking towards her.

"Hey, Daryl," she said.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"As well as can be expected, I guess," she replied. "You?"

"I was on the opposite side of the colony," he told her. "I'm fine."

"Missed the action, huh?" she said with a smile.

"Not that I'm complaining," he explained. "It's 'cause I missed it that I'm not here stuck in a bed." Leslie playfully punched him in the arm, and Daryl chuckled.

"Look, I need to go," he told her. "Hailey wants me to see something she found."

"If anyone could figure out what those things were from scattered atoms, she can," the colonel replied with a smile.

"That's why the Air Force pays her the big bucks," Daryl said.

"You'll brief me on everything she finds?" Leslie asked.

"Of course," Daryl replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go."

"Go right ahead," Leslie told him. Daryl turned around and walked away.

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"So, Hailey, what's up?" Daryl asked as he walked into one of the colony's science labs. Seated at a lab table, surrounded by various pieces of equipment, was Jennifer Hailey.

"This," she replied, pressing a few buttons on the keyboard of her laptop. Daryl walked over and looked at the screen.

"I'm not following," he told her.

"See these," she said, pointing at several spiky lines on the screen. "That's residual energy output. It indicates the frequency that electronic equipment was operating on."

"Wait, are you saying these things were machines?" Daryl asked.

"Not quite," she told him. "While there are certain artificial elements within the residue, like Trinium and Naquadah, they only account for around fifty percent of the residue. The rest is some sort of organic compound, made up mostly of carbon, chlorine, and several other elements I've never even seen before."

"So, these things were cyborgs?" he asked.

"No," Hailey said. "Cyborgs are organic and mechanical parts connected together. In this case, both the organic and the inorganic compounds are combined to form something we've never encountered before."

"I see."

"It gets worse." Hailey turned around in her chair to face Daryl. "I've analyzed the residual energy signature and compared it against everything we have on record, and we have encountered something similar before."

"What?" he asked.

"It's not a perfect match," she explained, "but this energy signature is extremely similar to a Replicator."

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"We were attacked by Replicators?" Colonel Crawford asked from her bed in the infirmary.

"Not the Replicators we know," Major Hailey explained, "but something quite similar to them."

"But instead of being impervious to energy weapons and vulnerable to bullets," Lieutenant Banks said, "these things are impervious to bullets and vulnerable to energy weapons." Jennifer shook her head.

"It's not the fact that it was an energy weapon that made a difference," she explained. "It's the fact that a Zat Gun is designed to destabilize the molecules in the target. If we used, say, a staff weapon, the creature wouldn't have been hurt."

"So, should we ask the S.G.C. to pull a couple Replicator Disrupters out of storage for us?" Daryl asked. Hailey shook her head.

"It won't work," she said. "We're not talking about millions of tiny pieces connected together here. We're talking about a single, whole alloy. The Disrupter won't help us."

"So, what, we just carry Zats around with us?" George asked.

"As of right now, that's exactly what we do," she told him.

"Good work, Hailey," Crawford said. "Keep working on this."

"Yes, ma'am," Hailey replied.

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Back in his house, Jeremy sat on his couch, smiling. He'd had more than enough time to infect every single computer in the Emergency Bunker. Already, he could feel their circuitry, their power. He was ready. Everything was in place. The only thing left to do was wait for the right moment. And then... he would strike.

**End of Chapter IV**

**A/N: Just to let you guys know, the Replicators aren't the villains here. That'll become clearer as time goes on.**


	5. A Colony Falls

**_Stargate: Genesis_  
Written By: The Ascended Ancient  
Chapter V: "A Colony Falls" **

**To Ben Prince: Yes, characters from the show will be making appearances as the story goes on.**

**A/N: For those of you who don't remember, the Alterans are the Ancients, the race that built the Stargate. The "Alteran Ring" is another name for the Stargate (I made it up for this story).**

Jeremy Spalding walked down the path towards the Alteran Ring as though nothing unusual was up. He didn't want any soldiers he came across to suspect anything, after all. Not with his plan just hours away from execution.

It had been several days since his creatures had attacked the colony, and Jeremy had decided that it was imprudent to wait any longer. The conditions wouldn't get much better than this, after all.

And so he walked towards the Alteran Ring, planning to put some of the final parts of his plan into place. Walking up a hill, he came into sight of the grand device… and the soldiers guarding it. In his opinion, the Alterans were geniuses to have devised and built such a magnificent thing. A device capable of instantaneously transporting someone to another planet. No Furling would've thought such a device was possible, and yet the Alterans had built it.

Jeremy growled in frustration as he realized that he was reminiscing on the past, yet another quality of this human mind that he hated. Of all the species who's minds he had melded with, the human mind was the frailest. Even though they were genetically similar to the Alterans, they lacked the highly evolved brain structure that mighty race had once possessed.

"Excuse me, sir," a soldier said, holding out a hand to stop Jeremy from approaching. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I just wanted to see the Stargate again, sir," Jeremy replied, walking over to the DHD. "It's a remarkable…" Before he could finish his sentence, the ring came alive. The inner track began to spin, and the chevrons started to light up.

"Don't worry," a soldier said reassuringly to Jeremy, who didn't need to be reassured. "It's just reinforcements coming from Earth."

"Oh, really?" Jeremy asked.

"Yeah," the soldier replied. "After those creatures attacked, the S.G.C. decided to send additional troops to help secure the colony."

"I'm… relieved," Jeremy said, forcing a smile onto his face. _Maybe waiting was a mistake_, he thought. _Now there will be more military personnel to neutralize_.

The Alteran Ring activated with a fwoosh, and, almost immediately, soldiers began to walk through.

"Maybe you should return to the colony with them, sir," the soldier Jeremy was talking to suggested.

"You're probably right," Jeremy told him before turning around and walking back towards the colony.

_I must move quickly_, he thought. Unfortunately, accelerating his plans meant abandoning his hope of controlling this planet's Alteran Ring. If the colonists reached it, they would be able to escape and report what had happened. But that was a risk he had to take. His future, his legacy, and his existence were at stake here. The Zetharian had to win.

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"So, what do you think we should do?" Governor O'Connor asked Colonel Crawford. He had summoned her to his office to discuss the growing unrest within the colony following the attack by those creatures several days ago.

"Well, sir, those that really want to leave should be allowed to do so," Leslie replied. "We can't hold them here without turning the entire population against us." Donald nodded.

"Better to loose a few than to loose them all," he said.

"Exactly," Leslie acknowledged. "With the additional security, all the ones who want to stay will feel much safer. The ones that are flat-out opposed to staying, we don't need them here persuading the people who want to stay that it's a bad idea."

"You're quite right, colonel."

"Thank you, governor," Leslie said. "If that's all, I need to work on integrating the new forces with our old ones."

"Of course," he said, ushering her towards the door.

On her way out of the governor's office, she felt a searing pain in her chest. The scratch marks there were healing, but it was a slow, painful process. Even worse, she had been expressly forbidden by her doctor to do strenuous exercises until they healed, leaving her with nothing to do in her spare time. And, of course, Daryl was spinning this as a sign that she needed to have something to do in her life that wasn't military-related. But she still didn't agree. She'd be fully healed in two weeks, and then it was back to the old regiment. There was no reason to try and, as he put it, 'live a little'.

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Later that night, Leslie Crawford walked through the heart of the camp towards her house. It had been a long day of re-organizing the colony's defenses and having people ask her if she was feeling all right (which was something she detested). Now, she just wanted to go home and go to sleep.

She walked up to her house and pulled out her keycard. But before she could swipe it, a voice called out, "Colonel Crawford!" Leslie turned around to see Jeremy Spalding walking towards her.

"Mr. Spalding," she greeted. "What are you doing here?"

"I have a question for you," he replied.

"Ok," Leslie told him. "Shoot."

"How do you feel about being my emissary?" he asked.

"Your what?" she asked, not understanding what he was asking her. Jeremy just smiled and raised his hand. From the tips of each of his fingers, long, silver, rope-like things shot out towards her. Before she could even think to move, they had wrapped themselves around her so securely she couldn't move.

"Actually," Jeremy continued, "I don't care how you feel about it. You'll be my emissary to the people on Earth, whether you want to or not. Because when I'm through with you, you won't have a choice." Jeremy smiled wickedly and raised his other hand. Out of that hand's index finger came another long, silvery rope. It slowly made its way towards her.

"You know, compared to my war with the Alterans, fighting you humans is going to be easy," he told her as the sharp tip of the silvery rope approached her temple. Suddenly, Jeremy was struck from behind by gunfire. He fell to the ground and the silvery ropes retracted back into his hands as Daryl Reynolds emptied an entire clip of P-90 ammo into his back. When the clip was empty, Daryl pulled it out and put in a new one.

"You ok, Leslie?" he asked.

"Now I am," she replied. Daryl carefully walked around the prone body of Jeremy until he reached Leslie's side.

"What was that?" he asked.

"I don't know," she replied. "But we should have Hailey look him..." Suddenly, a silver rope shoved itself into Leslie's temple before either she or Daryl could react. Leslie cried out in pain before collapsing to the ground. The rope is retracted, and Jeremy pulls himself to his feet. Not wasting any time, Daryl unloads yet another clip into the man. Once he's empty, he tosses the rifle to the ground and picks up Leslie, carrying her away as fast as his legs will run.

"Control Room!" he screamed into his radio, but his only reply is static. "Control Room, please respond!" Static continues to sound from his radio. "God damnit!" he swore. He'd have to worn them directly.

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In the Control Room of the Genesis Colony, none of the officers on duty knew that anything was wrong. To them, the colony was completely secure.

Suddenly, all their monitors went blank. Surprised, soldiers and civilians alike punched buttons on their keyboards, wondering what the problem was. With their attention focused on their screens, no one noticed the many silver swellings in the walls at first. Then, someone noticed, and let out a scream. But it was too late. As thin, silvery ropes shot out from the walls, everyone in the Control Room was as good as dead.

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Standing outside the control room building, Donald O'Connor paces back and forth, staring out at the three moons of this world. He was in charge of these people, it was his duty to keep them safe. And he was doing the best job he could, he knew that. But ever since those creatures showed up, he had begun to feel helpless. It was as if things were spiraling out of control, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Even as his dark thoughts plagued him, he heard a crash from above. Spinning around, he saw a soldier fly out of a window and crash to the ground below. His gun, an MP-5, clattered to the ground next to him.

The soldier was a bloody mess. He was bleeding from at least a dozen holes all over his body, and there was some strange silvery stuff mixed in with his blood. Donald just stood there, staring at him for a moment. Behind the body, the wall of the control room building started to churn. Silvery blotches could be seen spreading out across it.Realizing he was low on time, Donald took action. He raced to the body and grabbed the MP-5 and all the ammo the soldier was carrying. Then the governor of the Genesis Colony raced away from the building to the nearest house. He was going to save as many lives as he could, even if it cost him his.

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Daryl Reynolds was almost to the control room when he heard gunfire. Fearing for the lives of the other colonists, he gently placed Leslie on the ground, un-holstered his 9mm, and ran off in the direction of the gunfire.

Racing around a building, he found himself face-to-face with a disturbing sight. Governor O'Connor, an MP-5 in hand, was shooting like a madman to keep silvery tendrils, much like the ones that came out of Jeremy's hand, at bay. Daryl raised his pistol and supported the governor until the tendrils finally pulled away.

"Governor," Daryl greeted.

"Captain," the governor replied. "We need to get these people out of here. Where is Colonel Crawford?"

"She's been incapacitated, sir," Daryl replied. "The others are, as far as I know, on the other side of the colony."

"Then it's just you and me," Donald said. "Let's go."

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On the other side of the colony, Major Hailey and Captain Banks were doing everything they could to keep the enemy at bay. Jennifer had exhausted half the ammo she had for her P-90 fighting off the strange tendrils, but George's M-40 had far more ammo in each clip, and he had a great deal left.

"We need to get to the armory!" Hailey shouted to her teammate.

"And maybe find some more people!" George shouted back. "Let's go!"

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Over the next half an hour, the fighting was fierce all over the colony. On one side, Governor O'Connor and Captain Reynolds fought hard to keep the silvery tendrils at bay, collecting civilians as they went along. Reynolds had passed on the prone figure of Colonel Crawford to several of the colonists to carry, allowing him to focus entirely on the threat of the enemy... whatever it was. They met a handful of other soldiers along the way, providing added protection to the civilians they were escorting. But all around them, people they couldn't get to in time were being torn apart.

On the other side, Major Hailey and Captain Banks were doing the same thing. They had hooked up with a contingent of soldiers at the armory and were now working to evacuate as many civilians as they could.

Neither group could get to everyone. The enemy focused its full strength on them, and they were forced to withdraw. Both groups fled the colony and made a break for the Stargate.

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With slow, deliberate steps, Jeremy Spalding walked into the ruins of the colony's control room. Of course, it wouldn't be ruins for long. Already, the technology was finishing the conversion process he had begun days ago, the primitive alloys and circuits transforming into Sallium. The bodies, of course, had only been infected for less than half an hour, and were no where near transformed enough to be useful.

_Which means I can't pursue those who are fleeing_, he thought angrily, regretting that he had been unable to infect the Alteran Ring earlier that day. _This means I will have to move quickly_, he realized. _They will have no trouble getting back to their homeworld. Once there, they will send their troops and their ships to destroy me. That _cannot_ be allowed to happen._

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As they left the clearing and approached the path to the Stargate, Daryl noticed another group of people heading the same way.

"Governor!" he said. "There are more survivors!"

"Good!" Donald replied. "And thank god," he said quietly to himself. Ronald looked through the other group, and when he spotted Hailey and Banks with them, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"They don't appear to be pursuing us," Donald commented.

"Let's keep running anyway," Daryl replied.

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It did not take them long to reach the gate. Captain Reynolds was the first one to arrive, and he dialed the gate and transmitted his IDC. Once that happened, everyone raced through and back to Earth.

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If someone had been flying a ship over the Genesis Colony at this time, they would've been shocked by what they found. The many buildings of the colony had turned a silvery color, and tendrils of silver alloy stretched between them. Every second dozens of additional tendrils shot out and connected the various buildings. As such, the entire colony were slowly becoming one, giant structure. And in the heart of it, Jeremy Spalding was grinning from ear to ear. His plan was not going perfectly, but it did feel good to be powerful again.

**End of Chapter V**

**A/N: Well, colony go bye-bye! And, folks, if you think things are bad for the good guys now, you ain't seen nothin' yet!**

**Oh, and for those of you who like seeing familiar characters, the next few chapters... actually, a large portion of what's left of this story, you're going to like. You'll be seeing a lot of General Landry and one other character, as well as occasional appearances from others. Who is this other character we're going to be seeing a lot of? I'm not telling! **


	6. Recovery

**_Stargate: Genesis_  
Written By: The Ascended Ancient  
Chapter VI: "Recovery"**

General Hank Landry sat in his office going over reports from the Genesis Colony. What he read was not very good. Twenty-three colonists wished to return to Earth after the incident with those creatures, and the rest were uneasy about staying. Landry had sent more troops, but he wasn't sure what good that would do. People would become more and more frightened the longer they stayed there, and many would want to return. And, of course, the media would interview them, and they'd tell everyone about what happened. When that occurred, the small isolationist movement that had started up after the revelation of the Stargate would grow, and the international community would be hard-pressed to stand by their previous commitments.

The Stargate would be shut down, and Earth would be cut off from its off-world allies. The vast expanse of knowledge and resources humanity had gained access to would be shunned, and that would cause so much harm. The answers to some of humanity's greatest questions were out there. Already, researchers were using samples of plants found on P2A-294 to make a drug that was showing a potential to cure cancer. Things like this couldn't be shunned just because a few people were afraid, but that was exactly what would happen if this colony failed. Its success would make more people supportive of the Stargate, and its failure would do the exact opposite. And General Landry was not about to let it fail.

Suddenly, alarms all over the base began to blare, and the voice of the gate operator shouted, "Off world activation!" over the loudspeaker. In a heartbeat, Landry was out of his chair and on his way towards the control room.

Arriving there moments later, he stared out through the massive windows at the Stargate as it activated, and watched as the Iris closed over the event horizon.

"We're receiving an IDC," the operator announced. "It's S.G.-1."

"Open the Iris!" Landry ordered. The gate operator complied, pressing his hand down on the palm scanner. Immediately, the Iris opened, allowing the first people to step through.

They were colonists. An endless stream of colonists walking through the gate. As Landry watched this, he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Only a complete catastrophe could've brought this many colonists back to Earth. That meant the colony had failed.

"Escort them to quarters," Landry ordered a nearby sergeant. "And get the wounded to the infirmary."

"Yes, sir," the sergeant replied. Landry just stared out at the wave of people as they walked through the gate, wondering what the hell they were going to do now.

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On P4X-337, what had been the Genesis Colony was no more. It had transformed into something... else. Three concentric rings, conected by three coridors, surrounded a central spire that reached up high above the ground. Within the structure, the bodies of the people that had inhabited the colony were slowly broken down and transformed into Sallium before being remade into something terrible. Beneath the planet's surface, naturally occurring Naquadah deposits were slowly transforming into this substance as well.

Jeremy Spalding walked down the round corridors of his fortress, enjoying the feel of being powerful once more. Rounding a corner, he came across a young girl. She had been infected with Sallium during the takeover, but was not killed. Jeremy smiled and crouched down next to her.

"How are you?" he asked. The girl looked up at him, wide-eyed and afraid.

"It hurts," she said. "Where's my mommy?"

"I don't know where your mommy is," Jeremy told her as he stroked her hair. "But I do know that the transformation you're undergoing is slow and painful... when you're alive." He then grabbed her neck and twisted it sharply. The girl slumped down, dead.

"But it is far quicker when you're dead," Jeremy said with a smirk as he stood up and walked away.

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General Landry walked through the infirmary, looking around in sadness at the wounded. _This is the end_, he thought sadly. _The public will never support this program after this_.

"Sir," a male voice said. Landry turned to see Captain Reynolds sitting next to one of the beds. Lying on the bed was Colonel Crawford, a large bandage on the side of her head.

"What happened, captain?" the general asked.

"It was one of the colonists, sir," Reynolds replied. "Jeremy Spalding. He wasn't human. He was..." Reynolds trailed off as he searched for the right word. "Honestly, sir, I have no idea what he was. He attacked Colonel Crawford, and then the entire colony came alive. These... silvery... things, sir, they started to attack us. The governor and I gathered up as many people as we could and fled. Major Hailey and Lieutenant Banks did the same. We joined up and ran for the gate."

"I see," Landry said softly. "Well, you and the rest of your team will be debriefed at 1900."

"Yes, sir," Reynolds replied. Landry turned and walked away.

_If it was one of the colonists_, the general thought, _then maybe this isn't going to have such serious repercussions_.

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**3 Days Later**

At the Homeworld Defense Force Headquarters, a general meeting was in session to discuss the incident on the Genesis Colony. As he walked up to his podium, Director Jack O'Neill felt a wave of frustration was over him. He knew what the representatives would say. Ever since word of the disaster on the colony got out, public support of the Stargate Program had declined. The nations involved with the H.D.F. wanted to cut their political losses, which meant they'd be pushing an isolationist agenda here.

_And unless I can convince them otherwise_," O'Neill thought, _this'll be the end of the Stargate Program_. Clearing his throat, he began his speech.

"Representatives of the many nations that have joined forces to defend this planet," O'Neill said, using the standard introduction that he'd used in every speech he'd ever made. "We are here to review the facts of the incident on the Genesis Colony. Here is what we know." Jack pressed a button on the podium, and the lights dimmed. Above him, a projector came alive, displaying an image of Jeremy Spalding on the wall behind him.

"At approximately 2430 Standard Time on the Genesis Colony," O'Neill continued, "this man, Jeremy Spalding, attacked Colonel Leslie Crawford, the military commander of the mission. He attacked her using, and I'm quoting from the official report, 'long, thin tendrils of a silvery alloy'. Shortly after his attack on Ms. Crawford, nearly every building in the colony sprouted these silvery tendrils and began to attack the colonists. The military personnel stationed there did what they could, but in the end they were forced to evacuate with as many civilians as they could gather. They reached the Stargate without incident and dialed home."

"So," the French representative said, "this Jeremy Spalding was an alien, no?" Jack shrugged.

"I don't know what the hell he was," the director admitted. "He checked out all right. He had a birth certificate, a drivers license, a social security number. They were all legit, so no one questioned him on the mission."

"But these were all frauds, right?" the Canadian representative asked. Jack sighed.

"Possibly," he said. "But we can't find anything that suggests that."

"So, what are you saying, director?" Representative Chekov asked.

"I'm saying that this guy was legit," O'Neill replied. "Whatever he may have been and whatever he wanted, he wasn't some fraud."

"So, what do we know about him?" Chekov asked. Jack suppressed a sigh of relief. Chekov was, like always, steering the discussion in the direction Jack wanted it to go.

Even though their initial working relationship back at the S.G.C. had been... strenuous, the two had developed a mutual respect for one another. Here, at the H.D.F., Chekov was one of O'Neill's strongest supporters, something the director was quite thankful for.

"We know that he managed to seize total control of the colony in a matter of moments," Jack explained. "Most likely he'd been working on slowly seizing control the whole time he was there so that he could do it so quickly. As for what he was, our top scientists have analyzed samples of the material in those tentacles, and they've figured out a few things." Jack switched the image on the screen to some fancy, scientific report that he didn't even try to understand. "The stuff is some sort of mix of organic and inorganic compounds that gives off a low-frequency electrical charge. Other than that, we really know nothing."

"Isn't there _anything_ else?" Chekov asked.

"I don't think..." Jack trailed off as he remembered. "Oh, yeah, there is. Um, one of our officers, Captain Daryl Reynolds, heard Mr. Spalding say something about the Alterans, the race that we call the Ancients. You know, the gate builders. So we've, um, forwarded all information we have on Spalding and that material via subspace burst to Atlantis. It should arrive there around this time tomorrow. We can only hope that they know more about what we're up against than we do."

"But what are we to tell our citizens?" the German representative asked. "We have to tell them something." Jack shrugged.

"Tell them that one of the colonists sabotaged the colony," he replied. "Say we don't know the specifics yet."

"But wouldn't that mean lying to them?" the British representative asked.

"Not entirely," Jack said. "And even if it was, it's not like we haven't lied to them before. I mean, we lied about the existence of the Stargate for decades. Why can't we lie about this for a few weeks?" There were mummers of approval from the crowd. Jack sighed.

_I think I dodged the bullet here_, he thought. _At least, for now._

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Back at the S.G.C., Doctor Carolyn Lam walked into the office of General Landry, her father. She held in her hand the preliminary report on the patients who had returned from the Genesis Colony.

"So, doctor," Landry greeted her, "what do you have to tell me about these people?"

"Well, all of them possess that strange substance in their bloodstreams," Lam replied. "But, in all but one case, the substance exists only in small quantities, and it appears to be dormant."

"And in that one case?"

"Colonel Leslie Crawford," Carolyn told her father, pulling a piece of paper out of the file and handing it to him. "She has an extremely high concentration of this stuff in her frontal and temporal lobes, as well as minor traces of it throughout her body, and it's spreading at a rate that's increasing every second. I give it seven, maybe eight days before it's spread throughout her entire body."

"Is there any way to stop it?" Landry asked.

"Not as far as I know, sir," Carolyn replied.

"Very well," Landry said. "Good work, doctor."

"Thank you, sir." Carolyn turned around and walked out of Landry's office, leaving the general to look over the file she'd left him.

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On P4X-337, the ground just above what had been a major deposit of naquadah began to shake. The tremors became stronger and stronger, until, final, the ground split down the middle, and a massive, silvery bulge stretched out of it, pushing the Earth farther and farther apart. Finally, when the ground was pushed apart enough, the blob began to change shape. It flattened out and stretched forward as its shape became more defined. At one end, the silvery material split in two, each one arcing high above the rest of the blob. When it was finished, the substance hardened, and the new creation rose into the air. In the rear, two massive engines propelled the newly-formed ship higher, until it finally entered orbit. Out of the crater it left behind, smaller ships, shaped like tiny cones, formed and launched themselves as well.

Back in what had been the Genesis Colony, Jeremy Spalding opened his mind to his new creations. He felt their power and their strength, and he knew that it wouldn't be long now. Soon, his time would come. And when that happened, nothing would be able to stop him.


	7. A Disastrous Campaign

**_Stargate: Genesis_  
Written By: The Ascended Ancient  
Chapter VII: "A Disastrous Campaign"**

A/N: With each chapter, we draw closer to an explanation of what the hell is going on… along with additional appearances from beloved characters from the show.

In his office at the Homeworld Defense Force Headquarters, Jack O'Neill waited for his guests in a semi-patient manner. He did occasionally get up and start pacing around the room, but most of the time he just sat in his chair. Finally, the door opened, and the two generals he'd been waiting for walked in. They were Major General Hank Landry and Brigadier General Samantha Carter, the later of which was also Jack's wife.  
They had both agreed against her changing her last name very early on, especially since Jack couldn't seem to remember to call her 'Sam' instead of 'Carter'.

"Hank, Carter," Jack greeted. "Take a seat." They both sat down in front of his desk. "I think you both know why I asked you to come here."

"You want to resolve the situation on the Genesis Colony," Carter said intuitively.

"You're absolutely right," Jack told her. "These international delegates are breathing down my neck to get something done, so I'm going to do it. Now, what should I do?"

"Given what little we know about this enemy," Sam replied, "I'm not sure what we can do. I mean, so far our weapons have been highly ineffective against them." She sighs. "Even so, we have to do something."

"Samantha and I have been going over data transmitted by the UAV we sent to P4X-337 yesterday," Landry explained. "It indicates that a large portion of the planet's natural resources are being transformed into this silvery alloy. As for the colony itself, it's been transformed into some sort of fortress. The moment our UAV got close to it, it was shot down."

"I see," Jack said slowly. "So, what do you guys think we should do about it?"

"Attack," Landry replied simply.

"I agree with General Landry, sir," General Carter told Jack. "Using a combination of BC-303s and ground troops, we should be able to at least slow down whatever Spalding's got planned." Jack sighed and looked down for a moment.

"All right," he said. "You have a go."

"Thanks, Jack," Sam said with a smile as she and General Landry got up and headed for the door.

"Carter," Jack called after her. Sam turned around. "We still on for tonight?"

"Assuming we don't have to work late," Sam said with a smile.

"Excellent," Jack replied with a smile. Sam just chuckled and walked out the door.

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In the briefing room of the S.G.C., General Landry sat down with S.G.-1. Well, not all of S.G.-1. Colonel Crawford was still in the infirmary, slowly becoming worse. Doctor Lam was doing everything she could for her, but it didn't seem to be enough.

"Major Hailey," Hank said when S.G.-1 had sat down, "with Colonel Crawford incapacitated, I'm temporarily placing you in command of S.G.-1."

"Yes, sir," Hailey replied.

"Good." Landry clasped his hands in front of him. "As you know, the debate about what to do about the Genesis Colony has gone on at the highest levels. This morning, Director O'Neill, General Carter, and myself reached a decision. We're going to attack the colony."

"Are you nuts?" Banks asked. "The last time we were there we were lucky to get out alive. What makes you think this time will be any different?"

"Because this time you'll have air support," Landry replied. "Two BC-303s, the _Prometheus_ and the _Byzantium_, will attack the colony from orbit at the same time as you strike at it from the ground. You will coordinate your efforts with them. Our goal is to at least inflict serious damage on whatever Jeremy Spalding is trying to do there, even if we can't destroy it. This is _not_ a suicide mission. As soon as it gets too hot, you are to retreat through the Stargate."

"Sir, who are we going to have as backup?" Hailey asked.

"S.G.s 3, 5, 17, 21, and 27," Landry told her.

"The Marine teams," Daryl said softly.

"If that's all," Landry began, rising from his chair, "then…"

"Excuse me?" someone said. General Landry and S.G.-1 turned to look at the stairwell, where former-governor Donald O'Connor standing. "I heard what you said about the mission, and I, uh…" He scratched his head. "I want to be a part of it."

"With all do respect, Mr. O'Connor," General Landry told him, "you do not have the military experience required for this sort of mission."

"Sir, I served in the United States Marine Corps in Iraq," the ex-governor said. "I retired at the rank of lieutenant."

"That was years ago," Landry countered. "Do you still remember that much of your training?"

"He seems to," Daryl said. Everyone turned to look at him. "When we were retreating from the colony, he picked up an MP-5 and helped cover the civilians. He did one heck of a job, sir." Daryl sighed. "I think… at least until Colonel Crawford recovers, that he should fill the empty slot on S.G.-1," he continued, a touch of sadness in his voice.

"I'll consider your recommendation, captain," Landry said. "In the meantime, I have other teams to brief. Dismissed!"

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"Daryl!" Major Hailey called out. Daryl Reynolds turned around to see her walking down the stairs from the briefing room. "Can I talk to you?"

"Of course, Hailey," Daryl replied, following her out of the control room. They walked a few feet before Hailey began to speak.

"When Leslie was in command… you gave her advice," Jennifer explained. "You helped her out. A lot." She sighed. "I guess what I'm trying to say is… I want you to do the same with me. You see things that the rest of us miss, and I'll need that kind of help on this mission. Ok?" Daryl stopped walking and turned to her.

"You don't need to ask me to do that, Hailey," he told her. "I'd have done that anyway."

"I just had to be sure," Jennifer replied with a smile.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Daryl said, "I'm going to check up on Leslie."

"Of course." Captain Reynolds turned and walked off down the corridor towards the infirmary.

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On P4X-337, Jeremy Spalding stood in the heart of his fortress, waiting for the inevitable. The humans would retaliate; it was in their nature. When they did, Jeremy would be ready for them. And even if they did destroy him, his agent on Earth would avenge that loss and destroy them all.

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When General Carter chose the man to place in charge of her 303s for the attack on P4X-337, she knew that she had to choose the most reliable commanders she could get. So, naturally, the choice wasn't a hard one. As a result, Colonel Cameron Mitchell now found himself sitting in the command chair aboard the _Prometheus_ as it shot through hyperspace. As he sat there silently, he found himself thinking about the upcoming mission, about the daunting task of attacking an unknown enemy that had managed to thwart them quite successfully so far.

But whenever he thought like this, Cam just set his jaw. He was an experienced commander with an experienced crew aboard two powerful vessels. He would succeed. He had to.

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Back in the S.G.C., General Landry finally received the subspace signal from _Prometheus_ indicating that both battlecruisers were in position. He immediately ordered his strike team to disembark through the gate, hoping to god that he wasn't sending them to their deaths.

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On the surface of P4X-337, Jennifer Hailey was struck by how much the planet had changed. No longer was it the lush, temperate paradise it had been less than a week ago. Now it was a barren wasteland, the surface pockmarked with craters. The sky above was no longer clear and blue, but covered in dark clouds that crackle with lightning.

"Oh my god," Donald O'Connor whispered. General Landry had approved his position on the team a few hours before they left, bringing S.G.-1 back up to its full strength.

"Pretty, isn't it?" George said sarcastically.

"What could anyone hope to gain by doing this?" Daryl asked.

"I don't know," Hailey replied.

The S.G. teams continued down the path from the Stargate, dodging potholes and the like as they went. In the distance they could make out the silvery structure that had been the colony. Now it was something else, and it frightened the soldiers who were walking towards it that they didn't know what it was.

As they walked, there was a crackling noise over their radios. "This... arrived... begin..." Then, the radios died.

"Damnit!" Hailey swore. "I thought this could happen."

"What's going on?" a sergeant asked.

"The ionization in the upper atmosphere is blocking all transmissions from the 303s," Hailey replied. "We won't be able to coordinate the mission with them."

"Then I guess we're on our own," George said.

"I guess so," Hailey acknowledged. "Ok, here's the plan. S.G.-21 and 27, hang back on that ridge and cover the rest of us. S.G.-1, 3, 5, and 17, we're going in. Eliminate all hostiles you see. When we get close enough, S.G.-3 and 5 will focus on the hostiles while S.G.-1 and 17 plant C-4 along the compound. Understood?" A chorus of 'yes, ma'ams' answered her. "Then let's move out!"

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On the outskirts of the star system, the Earth warships _Prometheus_ and _Byzantium_ soared through space towards P4X-337. On the bridge of the _Prometheus_, Colonel Cameron Mitchell waited anxiously for the battle that he knew was coming.

"Can you get any readings on the planet?" he asked the sergeant at the sensor station.

"Nothing, sir," the sergeant replied. "The atmosphere appears to be heavily ionized, and our scans are just bouncing off of it. And I have no idea if our signal to the ground troops got through." Mitchell sighed. He would have to proceed without any sort of coordination with the ground troops; there was no way around it. He just hoped that this problem was the only one they'd face during this campaign.

"Major Logan," Cameron said into the comm system. "Launch your squadrons."

"Yes, sir," Major Joshua Logan replied over the comm. Immediately afterwards, twelve F-302 fighters launched from each of the two battlecruisers.

_There's no turning back now_, Cam thought.

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On the ground, the assault team slowly approached Jeremy's compound. Since they hadn't been fired upon yet, they believed they were either undetected or ignored.

In space, the warships and fighters soared towards the planet, hoping to draw out any defenses that were there with this show of force. Nothing happened, which fostered a belief that maybe there weren't any defenses to deal with.

And in the heart of his fortress, Jeremy Spalding watched all of this with limitless patience. He had no reason to strike now. They couldn't do any serious damage to him, and with any luck friendly fire would do more damage than his weapons.

_And_, he thought, _once they've realized they can't stop me, I'll make sure that they pay for ever thinking otherwise!_

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Without any difficulty, the _Prometheus_ and the _Byzantium_ were able to reach the upper atmosphere of P4X-337. Colonel Mitchell stared through the forward viewport, knowing what his next order must be.

"Lieutenant," he said, addressing the weapons officer. "Target the coordinates of the former Genesis Colony and fire."

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On the ground, S.G.-1, 3, 5, and 17 made it to the outer edge of the compound. Reaching into their pockets, the teams pulled out their C-4 and began to plant it along the outer wall. When they'd used up the C-4, they ran for a crater located a short distance away. S.G.-21 and 27 were there, keeping their weapons trained on the compound in case they were attacked.

As the other S.G. teams ran for the hills, so to speak, bursts of blue fire, the tell-tale color of a 303's railguns, shot out of the sky and struck the compound. But it didn't just strike the compound. It struck all around it too. And to the horror of the ground team, several bursts of railgun fire struck amidst the team. There were cries of pain and cries of horror as half the soldiers who had approached the compound were vaporized instantly. The rest of them, all numb from what had just happened, kept on running. That was the only thing they could do. When they finally reached the ridgeline, they collapsed.

_Nine men dead_, Major Hailey thought, her mind still trying to grasp what had just happened. _Killed... by our own people._ But she was in command. There would be time for her to grieve later.

"Fall back!" she ordered. "We don't want anyone else getting in the way of the cruisers fire!"

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"Sir!" the sensor officer cried. Colonel Mitchell turned to look at him.

"What is it, sergeant?" he asked.

"The ionization clouds are dissipating, sir!" the sergeant replied. And, sure enough, the massive clouds that had covered the planet began to vanish. Below them, they could now see the burning ruins of the compound. From the looks of things, they had completely destroyed it.

"I guess it wasn't as tough as we..."

"Sir!" the sensor officer interrupted. "The compound appears to be..." The sergeant, at a loss for how to describe what was happening, fell silent. But Mitchell didn't need him to explain what was going on. He could see it with his own eyes. The fires were dying down, and the silvery material the place was made out of began to stretch and twist. A few moments later, the damage was gone. The compound was fully repaired, not even a scratch on it.

"How is that possible?" Mitchell said softly to no one in particular.

"Sir!" the sensor officer cried out once more. "Unidentified ships closing on our position!" Cameron looked up at the monitor as it displayed an odd-looking vessel surrounded by dozens of smaller ships fly towards them.

"Shields to full!" he ordered. "Charge rail guns and arm missile tubes."

_If their base can repair that easily, what's to stop their ships from doing the same?_ he asked himself. But there was no other course of action. They would engage the enemy, and then they'd pray to god that they weren't all going to be slaughtered.

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On the surface of P4X-337, Major Jennifer Hailey led the assault team back to the Stargate. So far the only fire that had been directed their way came from their own ships, which was probably ironic in some sick way. Overhead, the dark clouds began to clear, revealing a starfield overhead. And up ahead, no further than a few dozen meters, was the Stargate.

_Thank god!_ Jennifer thought. _We're almost home!_

Suddenly, a sheet of that silvery material shot up out of the ground and wrapped itself around both the Stargate and the DHD. The assault teams stopped running and just stared ahead in disbelief. They were trapped.

Then, the whine of plasma fire was heard from behind them. Before anyone could react, two young sergeants were shot dead. Hailey prepared to give the order to take cover, but before she could she felt a sharp pain in her left leg. She fell to the ground, knowing that there was no way she was going to get out of this one alive.

**End of Chapter VII**

**A/N: Will Hailey live? Actually, will any of them live? Well, I'm not telling. Just know that pretty soon everything will be explained... not that things will get much better because of that.**


	8. The Retreat

**_Stargate: Genesis  
_Written By: The Ascended Ancient  
Chapter VIII: "The Retreat"**

On the surface of P4X-337, Captain Daryl Reynolds ran towards the Stargate with the rest of the assault team. With half their numbers gunned down by friendly fire, they figured it'd probably be best to get off this planet. Overhead, the dark clouds parted, revealing a massive starfield. As the clouds faded, the light from the stars illuminated the Stargate. Just as they began to approach it, a sheet of that silvery substance rose up from the ground and wrapped itself around the gate. Another sheet did the same for the DHD. They were cut off.

Reacting quickly, Daryl spun around, shouldering his M-4-GL and looking for the enemy. He didn't have to look long. Three... things were heading their way.

The creatures were tall, probably about a foot or two taller than an average human, though they looked more like centaurs than humans. The upper torso was very human-like, ending in a large bulge at the 'waist'. From this bulge came three, spider-like legs, that were spread out like a tripod.

Their heads were somewhat bird-like, with yellow eyes and a sharp, curved beak. Their arms were long and thin, and their hands were quite different. One had four long, sharp fingers, whereas the other one ended in some sort of nozzle. And they were all that same silvery color that every one of the enemy's creations seemed to be.

Before he could shout out a warning, the three creatures raised their nozzle arms, and small bursts of golden plasma shot out of them. Before anyone could react, these plasma bursts were flying all around them. Several soldiers went down almost immediately.

Reacting quickly, Daryl aimed his M-4 at one of the creatures and fired. But the bullets only made small dents in the thing, dents that were quickly repaired. Daryl then flipped a switch on his weapon, arming the grenade launcher, and fired. The grenade hit the creature with a loud explosion, and when the smoke cleared, he saw the thing on the ground, its midsection torn in two.

But the other two kept coming. Gunfire from the troops slowed them down, but they kept coming. Looking around frantically, Daryl spied a nearby crater out of the corner of his eye.

"Everyone, fall back to that crater!" he ordered. "Grab the wounded and fall back!"

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Major Joshua Gordon flew his F-302 at the head of the fighter formation. He was a veteran pilot, with over one hundred hours of flight time at the helm of one of these fighters. His copilot, Captain Gary Daniels, had almost as much as him. Together, they made for a dangerous combination.

Flying straight for them were about five-dozen cone-shaped objects, most likely fighters. Even though he only had two dozen 302s with him, Gordon was confidant he could win this.

"Squadron One, form up on me," he ordered into his headset. "Squadron Two, back us up. Squadrons Three and Four, hold back and wait for my signal to engage." A chorus of the word 'Copy' greeted his orders.

Ahead of him, a dozen enemy fighters broke off and headed his way while the rest held back.

_They're trying to fight fair_, Josh thought. _Their mistake._

He armed his railguns and waited for his shot. Then he opened fire.

His shots tore through the enemy ships, causing them to explode into clouds of debris. A piece of the debris struck his starboard wing, but it was just debris...

The next thing he knew, an explosion rocked his ship. Looking out the cockpit window, he saw that his starboard wing was gone. Eyes widening in fear, he spun his ship around towards the rest of his squadron. What he saw nearly made his heart stop.

The debris from the enemy fighters acted like mines. Each one that collided with a 302 exploded, taking a huge chunk of the ship with it. Within moments, the eleven ships he'd brought with him were destroyed.

"All fighters," he said frantically, addressing the other two squadrons, "fall back to the cruisers!" But it was too late. The remaining enemy fighters had used the small battle as a diversion, keeping the pilots occupied while they moved around to flank them.

His pilots never stood a chance. The enemy was on them in moments, plasma blasts tearing apart the 302s as if they were made of paper.

Anger filled the major, and he pushed his engines to the max. As he approached the enemy fighters, he fired all six of his missiles. Then he turned his ship hard and fled the explosions. He didn't want to get hit by any more of those debris bombs.

Despite his attack, he saw that only a handful of the enemy fighters had been destroyed. The rest, it seemed, were after him. He bobbed and weaved and juked, but the plasma blasts kept on coming. Suddenly, his ship shuddered, then he felt frozen, the air sucked away from him as he flew out through space.

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On the bridge of the _Prometheus_, Cameron Mitchell just stared out the forward viewport in shock. All the F-302s had been destroyed, while only a handful of enemy fighters had suffered the same fate.

"Enemy fighter craft coming around!" his sensor officer said.

"Target them with the railguns and fire!" Mitchell ordered, determined to make his fallen pilots' sacrifice meaningful.

In space, both massive, BC-303s unleashed a barrage of blue energy at the approaching, conical-shaped fighters. The fighters were torn apart, their debris exploding harmlessly on the cruisers' shields.

"All fighters eliminated, sir," the sensor officer said.

"Helm," Cameron ordered, "set a course for that cruiser."

"Yes, sir," the helm officer replied. With a slight hum, the _Prometheus_'s engines came alive as it shot forward. The _Byzantium_ followed them.

The vessel they were heading towards was oddly shaped. It was a long, flat cruiser, with three, arcing arms that ended in sharp points. Overall, it didn't look very dangerous, but then again, neither did the fighters.

"As soon as we're in range," Mitchell said, "hit that thing with everything we've got."

"Yes, sir," the weapons officer said.

"Sir!" the helm officer cried. "It's headed right for us." Looking out the forward viewport, Colonel Mitchell could see that he was right. The enemy cruiser was picking up speed and heading in their direction.

"Tell the _Byzantium_ to move away from us," Mitchell commanded. "We'll try to catch it between us and hit it from both sides."

In space, the two battlecruisers moved apart, leaving ample room for the enemy ship to fly between them. And it did, flying down that corridor between the two ships and heading straight for the _Byzantium_. Even as it began to fire on its target, both BC-303s were already hitting it with everything they had. Railguns, missiles, nukes, the whole armory was being emptied into this ship. Within moments, the enemy's shields were down, and the shots were hitting the hull. But whatever damage they may have done was instantly repaired. There seemed to be no stopping this thing.

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Back on the surface, Captain Reynolds struggled to organize his troops in some sort of defensive formation. More than half the surviving members of the team were badly wounded, and everyone had been hurt in some way. Reynolds himself was nursing his left shoulder, which took a plasma blast dead-on. He held his rifle in his right hand, using the rim of the crater they were taking cover in to support it. Even so, all he and his men could do was slow these creatures down. The one he'd hit with a grenade had long since gotten up, fully repaired, and rejoined the fight.

To his left was Donald O'Connor. For a politician, the guy could really fight. He unloaded his MP-5 into the creatures like a man possessed, making every shot count as much as he could. If only his accuracy could actually accomplish something.

Then, it hit him. Those creatures that attacked the colony, the messed-up wolf things, they healed quickly too. And they were killed by...

Quickly, Daryl pulled out his Zat and aimed it at one of the tripod creatures. He fired three times, and all three shots hit... and the creature was still standing. Daryl felt his heart sink. They were all in big trouble.

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Standing in his fortress, Jeremy Spalding felt the urge to laugh as he felt one of his minions take the full blast of one of those Zat Guns. He had long since gotten his hands on one of them and recalibrated all his technology to be immune to that particular weapon. Oh, things were going very well for him.

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In space, the enemy cruiser continued to hit the _Byzantium_ with everything it had. In return, both BC-303s hit the unshielded vessel with everything in their own armories, but any damage they did was rapidly healed.

On the bridge of the _Prometheus_, Colonel Mitchell stared out at the horror scene before him. Already, the _Byzantium_'s shields were beginning to buckle.

"_Byzantium_, break off!" Mitchell ordered, but he was too late. The massive vessel's shields failed, and it was torn apart by enemy fire. Cameron just stared out at the explosion in shock. They'd lost one of their ships, and had done no damage to the enemy.

"Break off the attack," Mitchell ordered, knowing that they couldn't do anything else. "Try and contact the ground troops. Let them know we're bugging out."

"Yes, sir," the comm officer replied.

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On the surface of P4X-337, Captain Reynolds' radio came to life.

"Major Hailey," Colonel Mitchell said. "Major Hailey, please respond."

"This is Captain Reynolds," Daryl said into his radio. "Major Hailey is down. We're under heavy fire, and the Stargate is cut off!"

"Understood," Mitchell replied. "We'll move into position to beam you up."

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"Move back into orbit!" Mitchell ordered. "We'll beam them aboard and get our asses into hyperspace."

"Yes, sir," the helm officer replied.

The massive warship swung around and flew back towards the planet. The enemy vessel spun around and was right on their tail, firing large blasts of orange plasma at them.

The _Prometheus_ rocked from each impact, but the ship held together.

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On the surface, the tripods were just a few feet away from where the S.G.C. soldiers were taking cover when the soldiers were enveloped in a bright, white light. Then they were gone.

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On the bridge of the _Prometheus_, sparks flew from several consoles as enemy weapons fire began to take its toll.

"Ground troops are aboard," came an engineer's voice over the comm.

"Get us out of here! Mitchell ordered.

"Engaging hyperdrive," the helmsman said.

Ahead of the _Prometheus_, a hyperspace window opened up. The engines flared for a moment, and then the ship was gone.

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In the heart of his fortress, Jeremy Spalding sensed the Earth vessel leave with a twinge of disappointment. In a way, he wanted to decimate them all here. But maybe allowing them to leave would be the better decision. This way, their people would hear in detail what he was capable of. Then, maybe their fear would make them more vulnerable when he finally came for them.

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Aboard the _Prometheus_, the survivors of the ground team were rushed to the infirmary. All were wounded in some way, and all needed treatment. But the worst thing of all was the number of survivors. Out of the twenty-four people who had started out on the team, only nine had survived.

Colonel Mitchell walked through the infirmary, staring at the wounded in sadness. They had really screwed up this time. So many people had lost their lives, and they had barely made a dent in the enemy's plans. This mission was a complete debacle. Now, all they could hope to do was get back to Earth and have time to lick their wounds.

"Sir," a young engineer called out. "We have a problem."

"What is it?" Cameron asked.

"The hyperdrive was damaged during the battle," the young officer replied. "We're not in any danger right now, but in about half an hour, the engines will overload." Cameron sighed.

"All right, lieutenant," he said. "Keep us in hyperspace as long as possible. As soon as the engines reach critical, drop us out."

"Yes, sir," the lieutenant replied before turning around and walking back to engineering.

_Thirty minutes_, Cameron thought sadly. _We're at least two hours away from Earth. Thirty minutes isn't nearly enough to get us there._ Cameron set his jaw. He would get them home. Somehow, some way, he'd get them home.

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Thirty minutes later, the _Prometheus_ dropped out of hyperspace. They were nowhere near an inhabited planet, and definitely nowhere near Earth. They were stranded, stuck in deep space. The only thing they could do was activate their distress beacon and hope for the best.

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"Unscheduled off-world activation!" the gate controller cried out. General Landry raced from his office down the stairs to the control room just before the Stargate activated.

"Receiving IDC, sir," the sergeant told him. "It's the Jaffa."

"Open the Iris," Landry ordered. The large, metal spiral-shaped barrier in front of the Earth Stargate spun as it opened, allowing several Jaffa carrying stretchers to walk through. On the stretchers are S.G.C. personnel. Landry quickly raced from the control room into the gate room.

"What happened here?" he asked.

"Yesterday, one of our ships detected a distress signal from the _Prometheus_," a deep voice said from behind Landry. The general turned around to find Teal'c standing on the embarkation ramp.

"Teal'c," Landry greeted. "What brings you here."

"I desired to bring news of this personally, General Landry," Teal'c replied.

"Of course," Hank replied. "We can discuss this in my office."

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Landry listened in stunned silence as Teal'c repeated what Colonel Mitchell and Captain Reynolds had told him. Apparently, the mission to P4X-337 had been a complete disaster. Most of the ground troops were dead, and one of the warships had been destroyed. Little to no damage had been done to the enemy.

"I offered to bring Colonel Mitchell and his crew back to Earth while we towed the _Prometheus_," Teal'c said, "but he wished to remain with the ship."

"I see," General Landry said slowly.

"General Landry," Teal'c continued, "this Jeremy Spalding represents a grave threat to the entire galaxy. I have come here to inform you of the fate of your mission, but I must now return to Dakara. The High Council must be convinced to take military action against him."

"I'm not sure how much good military action is going to do against this guy," Landry replied.

"Nevertheless," Teal'c told him, "we must do something." Landry nodded slowly, hoping that 'something' would be enough.

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In the infirmary, Captain Daryl Reynolds sat at the bedside of Colonel Leslie Crawford, a sling supporting his wounded arm. It'd been a week since she had been wounded, and she hadn't left that bed since. Already she'd been hooked up to an IV and a feeding tube, but the doctors said that she didn't have a chance.

As Daryl sat by her side, he felt so totally helpless. His close friend and comrade was dying, and there was nothing he could do. He wished they'd spent more time together while she was healthy. He wished...

Suddenly, she stirred. A groan escaped her lips, followed by a gag. She immediately reached up and pulled the feeding tube out.

"Leslie," Daryl whispered, to shocked for words. Leslie pulled the IV and most of the sensors off of her and sat up in bed. She turned to face Daryl, and an evil smile crept across her face when she saw him.

"Hi, Daryl," she said gleefully before grabbing him by the neck and throwing him across the room.

**End of Chapter VIII**


	9. The Zetharian

**_Stargate: Genesis  
_Written By: The Ascended Ancient  
Chapter IX: "The Zetharian"**

In space over Earth, the bluish cloud created by a hyperspace window appears. Out of it shoots one of Earth's BC-303s. The markings on its hull name it the _Daedalus_.

On the bridge of the _Daedalus_, Colonel Steven Caldwell breathes a sigh of relief. It had been a tense, three-day journey back to Earth from Atlantis. The information they were carrying was so important that they had maxed out the engines trying to get to Earth sooner. It was the answer to everything that was happening in this galaxy right now.

"S.G.C.," Caldwell said into the comm, "this is the _Daedalus_. We have analyzed the data you sent and have found some disturbing answers."

"Understood, _Daedalus_," came the voice of an officer in the S.G.C. "I'll patch you through to General Landry." A few moments later, the deep, somewhat raspy voice of General Hank Landry was heard over the comm.

"What did you find out, Colonel?" Landry asked. Before Caldwell could reply, he was interrupted by one of the most annoying people on his ship.

"What's the status of Colonel Crawford?" Doctor Daniel Jackson asked, pushing his way past a sergeant and into the heart of the bridge.

"Excuse me?" Landry asked.

"What is the status of Colonel Crawford?" Daniel asked again. "Is she still unconscious?"

"When last I heard," Landry began, "yes, she..." Suddenly, an alarm is heard over the comm. "We have an incident going on in the infirmary," Landry said a few moments later. "I'll get back to you."

"General, we're coming down to assist," Daniel said before the transmission was cut.

"Colonel, I'm gonna grab McKay and the device," Daniel told Caldwell as he walked out of the room. "When I signal you, beam us directly to the S.G.C. infirmary!"

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In the infirmary, Leslie Crawford broke the neck of an airman, letting his body fall to the ground. Three other airmen stood at the door, guns raised.

"Stop right there, ma'am," one of them ordered. Leslie just smiled wickedly and raised her right hand. Out of each finger, long, silvery tendrils shot out and wrapped themselves around the necks of each airman, strangling them. When they were dead, she retracted the tendrils.

"Leslie," a voice said from behind her. Colonel Crawford turned around to see Daryl Reynolds, a 9mm in hand, on his feet once more. Leslie just chuckled and sent her tendrils in his direction. Daryl, however, was ready for her. He dived over a table out of the way, firing as he went. She got hit in the shoulder and the stomach, but it didn't faze her. The wounds barely even slowed her down.

"Leslie, don't do this!" Daryl pleaded.

"Leslie's gone," she said with a smile. As she said this, there was a flash of white light from the hallway. "I'm all that's left. And there's nothing that can stop me now!"

Suddenly, she was lifted into the air by an unseen force. Furious, she sent silvery tendrils in every direction. But, as if they were hitting some sort of invisible barrier, the tendrils couldn't go out far.

"I guess you're not unstoppable after all," a brown haired man said as he placed a device on a nearby table.

"Doctor Jackson?" Daryl said, very surprised to see him on Earth. "I thought you were on Atlantis?"

"I just got back," Daniel explained.

"Daryl," Leslie said s she floated in mid-air. "Daryl, what's going on?"

"Leslie?" Daryl asked cautiously.

"Daryl, why am I floating like this?" she asked him.

"Don't listen to her, captain," Daniel said urgently. "Whoever she was before is gone. She's a part of the Zetharian now." Daryl turned to face him, confusion etched on his face.

"What's a Zetharian?" he asked.

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"It's an AI," Daniel explained to General Landry. "Designed to..."

"It's designed to do something that's impossible!" Doctor Rodney McKay interrupted.

"Impossible or not, it does exist," Daniel argued. "The Ancient Database was very clear on that part."

"And the records we were looking at had been damaged during a Wraith attack!" McKay snapped. "And you said yourself that your translation was less than perfect." McKay turned to General Landry. "General, until we can run the proper tests on Miss Crawford, we cannot definitively say what this thing is."

"If it'll shed some light on what the hell is going on here," Landry said as he got up from his chair, "then perform all the tests you need."

"Thank you, sir," McKay replied as he turned to leave. Daniel followed him.

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In her quarters on the base, Major Jennifer Hailey propped up her wounded leg with a sigh. The doctors said it'd be at least a month before she could return to active duty, maybe more.

_At least I'm not as bad as George_, she thought sadly. Her teammate had taken a nasty shot in the back. He was currently getting treatment, and was expected to make a full recovery, thank god. But he wouldn't be able to walk for at least three months.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Come in," Jennifer said. The door opened, and Donald O'Connor walked in.

"Major," he greeted. "I heard you wanted to see me?"

"I did," she replied. Reaching over to a nearby table, she picked up remote and turned off the television. "Have a seat." Donald walked over to a nearby chair and sat down. Hailey studied him for a moment before beginning.

"Daryl told me about your performance in the battle yesterday," she said. "He told me that you fought very well."

"Thank you, ma'am," Donald replied. Hailey let out a small sigh.

"I just heard about Colonel Crawford's... condition," she told him, using the word condition as if it were a curse. "And while I hate to accept this, it's unlikely she'll ever be back on the team. At least, that's what those two doctors studying her say." She sighed once more. "So... there's an opening on S.G.-1. And I'd like to have you fill it." Donald's eyes widened.

"Are you serious?" he asked.

"Daryl Reynolds recommended you," she explained. "And if I've learned one thing from working with him for fifteen years, it's that he's usually right about this stuff."

"Thank you, ma'am," Donald said graciously.

"Just don't make me regret it," she told him jokingly. They both chuckled. "Now, if you'll excuse me," Jennifer said, indicating her leg, "I want to get some rest."

"Of course, ma'am," Donald replied as he got up and walked out of the room.

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Ever since the Orii were finally driven out of this galaxy, the dominant, interstellar power had been the Jaffa Nation. They possessed the fleet left behind by the Goa'uld, and their people lived on half the habitable worlds of the galaxy. And, through much struggle, the Jaffa High Council had become a truly democratic government. And now, it was making strives to turn the warrior Jaffa into a peaceful civilization.

On Dakara, the capital of the nation, Teal'c, a member of the High Council, strode forward purposefully towards the council chambers. Before he could reach them, however, a hand grabbed his shoulder. It was not a violent gesture, but a friendly greeting. Teal'c turned around to find Bra'tac standing behind him.

"Tek'ma'tae," Teal'c greeted.

"Old friend," Bra'tac said as the two clutched each other's forearms in the Jaffa version of a handshake. "I have heard what you plan to present to the Council."

"Then you, too, know of the danger we face from this Jeremy Spalding," Teal'c replied. "We must act now if we are to stop him."

"Beware, Teal'c," Bra'tac warned. "The other councilors will have heard of this too. And already the plan their reasons why not to get involved."

"Why would they do that?" Teal'c asked.

"Not all see things as you do, Teal'c," Bra'tac explained. "The councilors are trying so hard to create a peaceful society for all Jaffa that they are hesitant to commit to a new war."

"They must see that this enemy could prove to be a great threat. How could they..."

"Teal'c," Bra'tac said sharply, clutching the younger man's shoulders. "The councilors are facing a great deal of opposition to their policies from the Jaffa masses. They will consider this new war as a direct assault on their plans for the nation, and will fight against it."

"But the information came from the Tau'ri," Teal'c said.

"Not all trust the Tau'ri as you and I do, Teal'c," Bra'tac replied. "Their word will not carry much weight with the council."

"What can I do to convince them?" Teal'c asked.

"You cannot," Bra'tac told him. "At least, not to go to war. You can, however, convince them to investigate the threat that this Jeremy Spalding poses." Teal'c bows his head.

"I understand," he replied.

"Teal'c, in a few months, I will no longer be on the council," Bra'tac said. "I will retire, and live out my last few years in peace back on Chulak. When that happens, old friend, you will need to sharpen your political wit to keep the council going in the direction we carved out for them."

"I understand," Teal'c told him. They locked eyes for a moment, then the two friends turned and walked towards the council chambers.

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"Well," Daniel said as he began the briefing, "now that Doctor McKay has been satisfied, I think you all should know what we're up against." Daniel turned out the lights and turned on a monitor. Seated before him were S.G.-1, albeit some of them injured, as well as General Landry, General Carter, Director O'Neill, and Colonel Mitchell, who had just returned to Earth aboard the _Prometheus_. Also attending was Ry'ac, Teal'c's son, who had been in command of the Jaffa Ha'tak that had found the _Prometheus_ and towed her back to Earth.

"Now, roughly eleven million years ago," Daniel continued, "The Great Alliance of races was the strongest force in the galaxy. It was made up of the Ancients, the Furlings, the Nox, and the Asgard. Now, we've learned a lot about the Ancients, the Asgard, and the Nox, but the Furlings are still a mystery. Daniel pressed a button, bringing up an image on the screen. "This," he explained, "is a Furling." The members of S.G.-1 gasped.

"Wow," Jack said. "They look much tougher than they're named."

"They also look like those creatures that attacked us on P4X-337," Daryl added. "Only a little less... metallic." It was true. The creature was identical to what had attacked them on the planet, only both arms ended in four-fingered hands, and it was covered in brown fur.

"I'm not surprised," Daniel told him. "The Zetharian based his... its foot soldiers on the race that created it."

"Wait a minute," Carter interrupted. "You're saying that Jeremy Spalding was created by the Furlings?"

"No," Daniel told her. "He was just unlucky enough to stumble across one of their creations." He sighed. "Look, when the Furlings first began to develop advanced technology, they developed a biosynthetic alloy they called Sallium. It was the perfect substance for their technology."

"But it was unstable," McKay said, stepping to the forefront of the briefing. "The right elements needed to be constantly re-balanced in order for the substance to remain intact for more than a few seconds." Daniel nodded.

"That's why the Furlings created the Zetharian," he continued. "We're not sure how, but they managed to engineer an AI that could keep the Sallium stable."

"Somehow, each molecule of Sallium is connected to every other molecule across a distance of several thousand light years," McKay explained. "The Zetharian uses that connection to regulate every molecule within range. Technically speaking, it exists in every single molecule in the substance, but it's central hub right now is Jeremy Spalding."

"Basically, eleven million years ago, the Furlings first made this discovery," Daniel told the others. "Over the next two millennia they rose to be the most powerful race in the galaxy. The Zetharian existed in all their technology, and its purpose had expanded. Now, they no longer used it just to regulate the elements in the Sallium they used it for... everything."

"Cars, warships, computers," McKay said, picking up where Daniel left off. "This thing nearly ran their entire civilization. And, of course, there were some people who objected to this. There was an incident at a government building, and a Furling became infected with Sallium. The stuff went to his brain, reshaping it, which allowed for the Zetharian to take control of his body."

"In a human body," Daniel continued, "the Zetharian is more than just a command and control system. It's a living, sentient being. And when Furling doctors wanted to remove it from the body it was in, it fought back. Since it controlled the entire Furling military, the fight was relatively short-lived. In less than a year, the Furlings, the most powerful race in this galaxy, were wiped out. Then the Ancients stepped in. Clearly, the death of one of their closest allies didn't sit well with them, because they went after the Zetharian with everything they had. During this war, the Zetharian proved highly adaptable, suffering from the initial barrage of Ancient weapons fire, but eventually adapting to it and becoming immune."

"Explains why we can't touch them," Hailey commented. "If they've become so tough that Ancient weapons can't stop them, I don't know what can."

"Exactly," McKay said. "But this adaptability didn't stop the Ancients. In a desperate move, they attacked the former homeworld of the Furlings. In a daring raid, the Ancients managed to reach the infected Furling that was the heart of the Zetharian and capture him using the device we used on Colonel Crawford. Now, the Ancients managed to extract the Zetharian from the Furling, hoping they could save the last surviving member of that race. Unfortunately, they failed, and the Furling died. The Zetharian, however, was put in a containment vessel and stored underground in modern-day England. With the sentient core of the system removed, the Ancients were able to send an auto-destruct command to every Sallium creation in the galaxy."

"Yes, yes, yes," Daniel said impatiently, "but we also know that Jeremy Spalding was on vacation in England less than a month before the revelation of the Stargate Program. He supposedly fell into a chamber with strange writing and a broken container."

"You think he may have broken open the containment vessel and become infected?" General Landry asked. Daniel nodded.

"Exactly," he said. "Once he was infected, the Zetharian would've become sentient again."

"So, all we have to do is kill Spalding," George said, "and the threat's over, right?"

"Essentially, yeah," Daniel replied.

"Great," the lieutenant said sarcastically. "Why don't we just shoot ourselves now?"

"It's not as impossible as you may think," Daniel told him. "The Ancient database had a few notes on a device the Ancients were working on to destroy anything made out of Sallium. They never got it to work, but I think we may stand a shot. Well, McKay thinks we do."

"The basic principle is the same as a Replicator Disruptor, which isn't surprising," McKay said. "Only it's way more complex."

"Why isn't it surprising that it's similar to the Disruptor?" Carter asked. Daniel and McKay looked at each other for a moment.

"Because," Daniel finally said, "the former homeworld of the Furlings is the same planet where the android Reese was built. Because of that, we think that the Zetharian may be a predecessor to the Replicators."

**End of Chapter IX**

**A/N: Despite its relationship to the Replicators, the Disruptor isn't the key to stopping the Zetharian. What is, you ask? You'll find out... eventually. I'll lay the building blocks towards the discovery as we go along.**

**I like the fact that I got so many reviews when I posted that ultimatum. I must say, I really hate doing that. So, if all you people who reviewed just then keep it up, I won't have to.**

**I think Kody Wright put it best when he/she said that the only reward us authors get is your feedback. When I stop getting as much, I start to wonder why I'm writing it. Even though I can see the hit stats, it isn't the same as a review. So, keep on reviewing, and I'll keep on writing.**


	10. The Ongoing Conflict

**_Stargate: Genesis  
_Written By: The Ascended Ancient**  
**Chapter X: "The Ongoing Conflict"**

**3 Months Later...**

In orbit over P2A-115, seven BC-303s fought a desperate battle to hold back three Zetharian Cruisers. It wasn't easy. Even after three months, Earth hadn't developed any way to counteract the Zetharian's incredible regeneration capability, and as such the Zetharian had suffered no casualties.

Oh, there were the fighters. For some reason, they could be destroyed. And it wasn't just for the purpose of releasing the bomb debris. The S.G.C. had developed miniature shield generators for the 302s, protecting them from these tiny explosives. So why did the Zetharian, which had shown incredible regenerative capabilities so far, not have their fighters show the same invincibility as the rest of their forces?

That was the question that the S.G.C.'s top scientists, under the direction of Doctors McKay and Jackson, were studying. So far, they hadn't accomplished much, but that didn't stop them from trying.

Meanwhile, General Carter was busy repositioning Earth's fleet of 303s throughout the galaxy, fighting to slow the expansion of the Zetharian. Because it was expanding. Each world that the Zetharian came to fell, and the people were slaughtered. The S.G.C. was focusing primarily on evacuating those in harm's way, but it was a desperate attempt at best. Casualties amongst the refugees were still incredibly high, and the work was only a temporary effort at best. Sooner or later, if the Zetharian couldn't be stopped, the planets these people had been evacuated to would be overrun.

Now, on P2A-115, the primitive human inhabitants were being evacuated through the Stargate by S.G.C. ground troops under the command of Captain Reynolds.

But in orbit, the fight between the BC-303s and the Zetharian Cruisers started to heat up. 302s and Zetharian Fighters zigged and zagged amongst the cruisers, their weapons blazing. The warships themselves lashed out with varying barrages of blue railgun and orange plasma fire. While the Zetharian ships took minimal damage, the 303s were taking some pretty serious damage. One ship had already been forced to withdraw from the battle, and the rest were rotating from the front to the back, making sure that ships with fully charged shields were in the line of fire.

On the bridge of the _Valkyrie_, the flagship of this battle group, Colonel Mathew Carrington re-arranged his ships once more as the front-line vessels started to take heavy damage. He was a seasoned veteran, but he was also used to fighting battles that he had at least a chance of winning. This particular battle was all about keeping the ships from attacking the people on the surface as they were evacuated through the Stargate. Unfortunately, several fighters had managed to slip past the cruisers, and were currently dogfighting with 302s in the atmosphere. No matter what happened, Mathew knew that in a matter of minutes, this would all be over, one way or another.

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P2A-115. A lush, tropical paradise. At least, that was how the first S.G. team to go there described it. Now, however, it was quite different. The lush forests were either burned or burning. The wild fields were scorched and pockmarked with craters. And the hill where the Stargate was located was the sight of a fierce battle. Holding position on top of the hill were the S.G.C. soldiers, fighting valiantly to hold the line as they covered the refugees escape. The biggest concern they had was the gate shutting down. The thirty-minute time span of an open wormhole was almost up, and the DHD was back behind the line of Zetharian soldiers that were approaching them.

Crouched behind a barricade, Daryl Reynolds and Donald O'Connor were the first line of defense. They were the only two members of S.G.-1 available for active duty. Major Hailey was working with Doctor McKay and Doctor Jackson on developing some kind of anti-Zetharian weapon, and Lieutenant Banks was still in the infirmary from getting shot in the back three months ago.

But even the lack of their comrades didn't stop them. They unleashed as much fire as they could at the enemy, but, of course, bullets did practically no damage, and grenades only slowed the enemy down.

Overhead, the 302s and Zetharian fighters continued to fight. Blue and orange energy flew across the sky, many times striking the ground, triggering several large explosions, which only served to further frighten the fleeing inhabitants of this world.

"Carrington, Harding, reinforce the east flank!" Daryl shouted into his radio as another man fell to the overwhelming onslaught of enemy troops. _We're not gonna be able to hold much longer,_ he thought. And as if some evil power was reading his mind, the Stargate chose that moment to shut down. Daryl grimaced. There was no other way around it. The cruisers' job was to keep the enemy away from the planet; they couldn't come back to pick up the ground team. The only way off of this planet was through that gate, and that meant reaching the DHD.

"Rocket men!" Daryl shouted into his radio. "Clear a path to the DHD on my mark!" He crouched down and removed the empty clip of his M-4-GL, replacing it with a new one. He turned to Donald, who was doing the same.

"When they clear a path," the captain said, "we run for the DHD. Hopefully, we can dial the gate in time." Donald nodded, not saying a word. Once again, Daryl was struck by the professionalism of this man. For an army sergeant who hadn't served in years, he remembered just about everything he'd been taught. He shouldn't have chosen politics over the military, and even after all this was over, he was inclined request that Donald stay over at the S.G.C. Not on S.G.-1, of course, because they had Leslie to think about.

Daryl grimaced as he thought about their wounded commanding officer. Despite what the doctors said, he hadn't given up hope for a recovery. He _couldn't_ give up.

Reaching down, he pressed the talk button on his radio. "Fire!" he ordered. Immediately, the air above his head was filled with seven streaks. Each was a rocket, and each was headed for the enemy troops.

"Go!" Daryl shouted as the rockets hit their marks with a deafening explosion.

The two men leapt from their hiding place and ran down the hill towards the DHD. All around them, the damaged Zetharian troops were pulling themselves back together. They were too slow. Daryl and Donald reach the DHD without difficulty. In a few seconds, they had dialed the address and reactivated the gate.

Then it was the race back. Already, one of the Zetharian troops was on its feet again. Aiming his M-4 at it, he launched a grenade in its direction. The grenade hit its target with a large explosion, knocking the soldier back on its ass. However, the others were all starting to get up as well. Gunfire came from the soldiers guarding the gate, but it barely slowed them down. The two men raced for the nearest barricade. They were nearly there when the enemy began to fire.

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In orbit, Colonel Carrington grimaced as yet another one of his ships was forced to withdraw permanently from the fight. The meant two down, and five to go.

"Sir," the comm officer said. "We're receiving a signal from the planet. They say that everyone's gotten away." Mathew nodded, knowing the rest of the plan, and the difficult nature of it.

"Helm," he ordered, "set a course for this system's sun at best possible speed."

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Just beyond the coronasphere of P2A-115's sun was a lone Tel'tac. Like all Goa'uld vessels, it was now part of the Jaffa Nation, though they had loaned it to the Tau'ri several weeks ago for this mission. So when the High Council requested that a delegation be present on this mission to observe the Zetharian and determine how much of a threat it posed, Stargate Command decided to place the observers on this ship, which was cloaked and out of harm's way.

In the cockpit of the Tel'tac, an Air Force sergeant sat at the helm. Next to him was one of the Jaffa representatives, Lok'nar. In the cargo compartment, General Samantha Carter and several S.G.C. scientists worked frantically to make the final preparations for this plan. Watching them were two other Jaffa, Serna and Ry'ac. The mood was very tense, for this plan they were working on was not only extreme, it was desperate. If this didn't work, they were truly doomed.

Finally satisfied with the preparations, Carter left the cargo bay and went into the cockpit.

"So, what do you think?" she asked Lok'nar. "Is this a big enough threat for you?"

"I must say, the fact that your weapons appear to be useless against them is a concern," Lok'nar replied. "But I fail to see how Jaffa military assistance will help?"

"Because we should fight, Lok'nar," Ry'ac said as he strode out of the cargo bay. "We may not be able to beat them, but we shouldn't give them the chance to come after us."

"Commander Ry'ac," Lok'nar said with a chuckle, "you are your father's son."

"A fact I am quite proud of, Lok'nar," Ry'ac told him coldly.

"Regardless of how it turns out," Serna interrupted, stepping between the two men, "you can't deny that the Zetharian is a threat, Lok'nar."

"A threat to the Tau'ri," Lok'nar told her arrogantly. "Not to the new, peaceful Jaffa nation."

"Then how about the people on that planet?" Ry'ac asked, pointing at the distant light that was P2A-115. "They did nothing. They didn't even know the Zetharian existed. Neither did the thousands of other humans on worlds the Zetharian has conquered. Do you really think it cares about our peacefulness? It has shown a desire to expand, regardless of who or what are in its path. Do you really think it'll be any different with us?" Lok'nar was silent for a moment.

Before anyone could speak again, General Carter's radio crackled to life. "General, this is the _Valkyrie_," Colonel Carrington said. "We are almost in position."

"Understood, _Valkyrie_," Carter replied. "We'll be ready." She walked over and motioned for Lok'nar to give up his seat. He did, and she sat down.

"Arm the weapon," she ordered. "Get ready for deployment."

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In space, the five remaining BC-303s raced towards the planet at their top speed. All fighters had been returned to the fighter bays, and the ships' hyperdrives were running hot. Right on their tail were the three Zetharian warships, weapons bombarding the fleeing 303s. All power had been diverted to the rear shields, but Colonel Carrington feared it wouldn't be enough.

"One minute until we reach the coronasphere, sir," the helm officer said. Carrington just nodded, not bothering to reply.

_This is it_, he thought. _If this doesn't work..._

The 303s changed course as they reached the coronasphere, pulling sharply away from the sun. Before the Zetharian ships could change course to follow them, the 303s jumped into hyperspace.

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Aboard the Tel'tac, Carter activated the ring transporter, beaming the prototype weapon they'd brought aboard into space. Pressing a button on a remote, she activated the autopilot on the device, sending it flying into the sun.

"The Mark-12 is away," she announced. "Get us out of here before it blows." As everyone aboard knew, the Mark-12 was a brand-new, naquadah-enhanced nuclear weapon. It was nicknamed the Star Killer by many Air Force personnel, because that was exactly what it did. It flew into the heart of a star, using powerful shields and a thick trinium hull to avoid being destroyed. When it reached the center of the star, after just seven seconds, it would explode, triggering a supernova.

Through the forward viewport, Carter watched as the Tel'tac jumped into hyperspace. Silently, she prayed that this would work. If the Zetharian ships could survive a supernova, then they really didn't stand a chance.

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Still in orbit around P2A-115's sun, the three Zetharian ships were unaware of the danger approaching them until the sun slowly darkened. Then, with an incredibly bright flash, the star exploded, unleashing a powerful shockwave that destroyed all three vessels and every other Zetharian creation in the solar system.

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On P4X-337, Jeremy Spalding felt a wave of pain slam into him. His ships... they'd been destroyed. The humans had blown up a _sun_! There was no defense against that, not against that powerful of an explosion.

Just then, Jeremy decided that he had to destroy Earth. The humans were too dangerous. They may not be the Alterans, but they were their descendants, and that made them just as much of a threat. Of course, Earth was still out of range. His signal wouldn't reach it, and therefore he couldn't direct his ships. He'd still have to take over quite a few worlds in his path. But he would take Earth. It would happen. He would destroy them.

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Back in the S.G.C., Major Jennifer Hailey walked over to Daryl Reynolds' bed in the infirmary. She smiled when she saw that he was more or less unhurt.

"How are you doing?" she asked.

"It's just a mild concussion," he replied, putting down the book he was reading. "The doctors want me to spend the night here for observation, but other than that, I'll be back to work tomorrow."

"Good," Jennifer said with a smile. "So, any change in the battle?"

"Same as usual," Daryl told her. "No enemy casualties, at least, none that we caused." He paused for a moment. "So, how's the research coming?"

"We think we may know how you're able to destroy the enemy fighters," she told him. "It's not much, but it may be the beginning of figuring out a way to stop this thing."

"Good," Daryl said. "And... once you're done building a weapon, you'll focus on Leslie, right?" The look in his eyes was desperate, and Jennifer felt a wave of pity for him.

"We'll look into it," she replied. "But Daryl... Doctor Jackson's information is pretty conclusive. She may not be able to be saved." Daryl shut his eyes, fighting back the tears that were welling up. "I'm sorry," Jennifer continued, genuinely saddened by Daryl's reaction. _We'll need to kill her eventually_, she thought to herself. _She's too great a threat to allow to live. I only hope he can accept that when the time comes._

**End of Chapter X**

**A/N: I love the amount of feedback I'm getting. Remember, the more you review, the quicker I'll churn out more chapters. And the reviews don't have to be all positive. If you feel I'm doing something bad, tell me, and I'll look into it.**


	11. Discoveries and Decisions

**_Stargate: Genesis  
_Written By: The Ascended Ancient  
Chapter XI: "Discoveries and Decisions"**

**To The Wandering Azn: I know the weapon probably shouldn't have been able to reach the center of the sun. Then again, this is Science Fiction, so anything's possible.**

**As for a sequel, I'm really not planning one right now, but with me, that means absolutely nothing. Most of the good stuff I come up with for my stories weren't in the outline I wrote beforehand.**

"So, did it work?" Jack O'Neill asked Samantha Carter. They were in his office discussing the outcome of the battle at P2A-115.

"Completely, sir," Sam replied. "Everything in that solar system, including the Zetharian ships, was destroyed."

"Well, that's good," Jack said. "But we can't just keep blowing up stars to keep this thing in check."

"That's true, sir," Sam said. "We just have to hope that McKay and Daniel can come up with something."

"Well, then, maybe you should go and work with them," Jack told her, getting out of his chair. "Seeing as how you're the smartest person on the planet and all."

"What about the fleet, sir?" Carter asked. "Someone has to keep it moving so the Zetharian can't corner it."

"I got it covered," Jack replied. "I called up Hammond this morning, and he said he'd be delighted to come in on this for a little while."

"Wow," Sam said, surprise etched on her face. "When is he arriving?"

"Tonight," Jack told her. "I figured you'd want to say hi before heading off to the S.G.C." He walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "And I thought that maybe we could have one brief afternoon together before you headed off to Colorado." He leaned in and kissed her, and she kissed him back.

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In the S.G.C., Captain Daryl Reynolds walked down one of the base's many curved corridors. Though his expression was calm, within him was a great deal of emotional turmoil. It'd been that way ever since Leslie was attacked by the Zetharian, and it would continue until she got better.

"Hey!" Major Hailey called out as she passed him in the corridor. "Where are you off to?"

"Storage room three," Daryl replied. Hailey's cheerful expression changed to one of concern.

"You're going to see her, aren't you?" she asked.

"Why shouldn't I?" he responded. "She's still our commanding officer, and she's still our friend."

"Daryl, Leslie is dead," Jennifer told him softly.

"Then what's locked up in storage room three?" he asked her angrily.

"A creature that serves the Zetharain," Jennifer replied. "Whatever parts of Leslie that haven't been destroyed are just skin deep. Who she was, that's gone. You have to accept that." Daryl stared at her, his brown eyes filled with sadness.

"I can't do that," he told her. "I just can't."

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Daryl Reynolds walked into what had been a storage room for alien technology brought back through the Stargate. Now, though it had been converted to hold Leslie captive. The anti-gravity device Doctor Jackson and Doctor McKay had brought back with them from Atlantis was set up on top of a crate as it maintained the field that prevented Leslie from touching everything. Sallium had the capability of converting anything it came into contact with into more Sallium. Since Leslie's internal structure was filled with this substance, they couldn't let her touch anything. Hence, the anti-gravity device.

"Oh, great," Leslie said sarcastically as she saw Daryl walking towards her. "You again. When are you just going to give up? Leslie's dead. Accept it." Daryl shook his head.

"I don't believe that," he told her. "And you don't, either. I know you don't. If it were true, you wouldn't have to spend so much time trying to convince me otherwise." Leslie groaned with frustration.

"You stupid human!" she snarled. "Maybe I'm telling you it so many times because it's true?" Daryl didn't say anything. He just stared at her. She stared back. Slowly, the fierce, angry expression on her face began to change, and she let out a gasp.

"D-Daryl?" she said weakly. "H-Help..."

"Leslie?" Daryl asked desperately.

"Leslie is _dead_!" the creature within the colonel's body shouted, the fierce, anger returning to her face. "Accept it!" Daryl just stared at her in shock before he turned around and left the room.

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Leslie Crawford, a part of the greater Zetharian whole, watched as Daryl walked out of the room. She had been stuck on Earth, too far away to communicate via the Zetharian subspace network, for three months now. Each day, that fool had come in to visit her. So, she had decided to use his feelings for the former owner of her body to her advantage. Oh, yes, he was putty in her hands.

_Not quite_, she realized. Leslie's memories of him indicated that he was a strong individual. At the first sign that she might be manipulating him, he'd turn on her.

So, that ruled out using him as a pawn. And she didn't think he'd free her without knowing that the Zetharian had truly been removed from her body and her mind. _So, I'll just screw with him_, she thought. _At least it'll give me something to do_.

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In a research lab in the S.G.C., Major Hailey and Doctors Jackson and McKay were hard at work analyzing data from every single battle fought over the past three months. So far, the only lead they had on a potential weakness in Zetharian technology was that their fighters were very rarely able to repair themselves. The trio of scientists were busy running an analysis computer program they'd spent months fine-tuning to find out why.

"So, how are the wedding preparations?" Daniel asked Hailey in an attempt to make small talk.

"They're pretty much done," Hailey replied. "The ceremony is scheduled for two weeks from Saturday." She turned to face him. "You're invited, by the way."

"I am?" Daniel asked, somewhat surprised.

"Of course," she told him. "S.G.-1 introduced me to the Stargate Program. You guys changed my life, and that merits a wedding invitation."

"Ah," Daniel said. "I see."

"What about me?" McKay asked. "Don't I get a, uh, invitation?"

"Sorry, Rodney," she said. "But the wedding is for close friends and family." Rodney looks flabbergasted.

"Well, I thought that after working together for three months we'd developed some sort of rapport, a, uh, connection of sorts," Rodney told her. "So to not be invited..." Before he could finish his sentence, the computer began to beep. All three scientists turned towards it and read the screen.

"Oh my god," Hailey whispered.

"This is it!" Rodney exclaimed, far more excited than the others.

"What's it?" Daniel asked. "Because I'm not the scientist here, I'm just the translator. I have no idea what that stuff means."

"It means that the Zetharian isn't as invincible as we thought," Hailey told him. "It means we actually have a chance."

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Elsewhere in the galaxy, on the Jaffa capital world of Dakara, Ry'ac, son of Teal'c, walked into his home, and into the embrace of his wife, Kar'yn. A former member of the Hak'tyl resistance to the Goa'uld Moloc, Kar'yn and Ry'ac had fallen in love while he and Master Bra'tac were working to coordinate their efforts with the rest of the Jaffa Resistance. Now that the Jaffa Nation had been formed, Kar'yn had moved to Dakara to live with her husband, who commanded a Ha'tak vessel in the Jaffa fleet.

"I am glad you are home, husband," Kar'yn said when the two spouses had separated. "I have heard stories about the power of this Zetharian, and I was afraid for you."

"I am fine, Kar'yn," Ry'ac reassured her. "The Zetharian is truly an enormous threat, but I and the other members of the Council's delegation stayed out of harm's way."

"When are you to report your findings to the High Council?" she asked him after a moment.

"Two hours from now," Ry'ac replied.

"That is good," another voice said from the other side of the room. Ry'ac turned around to find Ishta, his mother-in-law, walking towards him.

"Ishta," Ry'ac greeted. "I wasn't expecting you here."

"I arrived yesterday," Ishta explained, "in the hope of seeing my husband. However, this situation with the Zetharian has kept him at Council Chambers since long before my arrival."

"He is working hard to convince the Council of the threat this entity poses," Ry'ac acknowledged. "Hopefully, what I and the other members of the delegation have seen will help his cause."

"We can only be so fortunate," Ishta replied. "Now, please, if you have the time, I would like to learn what you have discovered about this Zetharian myself."

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"An interesting story," Councilor Vil'mar said when the three members of the delegation sent to determine the danger posed by the Zetharian had finished telling their story. Gathered in the High Council chamber was every single councilor, and they had all listened closely to every word the three Jaffa had spoken.

"It's not a story," Ry'ac protested. "It is the truth."

"And if it is," Vil'mar replied with a smile, "then the Jaffa Nation would be sacrificing many warriors to involve themselves in this fight." Standing next to Ry'ac, Lok'nar smiled at this comment. He, too, opposed getting involved in this conflict, despite what he'd seen.

"Better to fight now than to cower and wait for the Zetharian to come for us!" Ry'ac argued.

From the sidelines, Teal'c watched with pride and apprehension as his son fought to win over the councilor interrogating him. Unfortunately, in this proceeding, only Vil'mar had permission to speak to them, since he was the one given command of the delegation. The floor would be opened to the other councilors once he was done. So all Teal'c could do was watch in silence as his son struggled to make his point.

"The people on the planet the Tau'ri call P2A-115 were peaceful," Ry'ac continued. "They knew nothing of spaceships or the Chapa'ai or war. But the Zetharian still targeted them. It has been expanding steadily outward from its planet of origin for the past three months. At this rate, it will reach a Jaffa world in two weeks."

"So we are supposed to abandon all the civil progress we've made over the past fifteen years and return to our warring nature, is that it?" Vil'mar asked.

"Is that really what this is all about?" Serna asked, cutting off whatever reply Ry'ac might've had. "You lost your wife and all three of your children during the war with the Goa'uld. You lost many of your closest friends during the war with the Orii. It is understandable that you feel that the Jaffa warrior heritage is reprehensible. But that doesn't give you the right to lead us to ruin."

"I am _not_ leading us to ruin," Vil'mar said sharply. "And what would one so young know about my motivations?"

"I know quite a bit, councilor," Serna replied.

From his seat, Teal'c was amazed by Serna's speaking skill. He knew that she was one of the most renowned Jaffa negotiators, responsible for healing many age-old disputes between Jaffa of different System Lords that had resurfaced after the defeat of the Goa'uld. But actually hearing her speak was a true shock. This young woman spoke in a soothing tone, but there was an edge to her voice that commanded attention. And the look in her eyes, the look of wisdom far beyond her years. She knew what she was doing, and Vil'mar was foolish if he was underestimating her.

"For example," Serna continued, "I know that even after the Orii were proven to be false gods, you supported joining them because you wanted to avoid a war. And later, when the Lucian Alliance began stealing from our supply convoys, you voted against taking military action to stop them. And now, the Zetharian threatens not only the Jaffa Nation, but every living being in the galaxy, if not the entire universe. And, once again, you're voting against the war." She turned to face the other councilors. "The question is, what will the rest of you vote? Will you let your passions rule you, or will you do what is best for every single Jaffa?"

Teal'c felt a great urge to laugh. That young woman was really good. She had them, hook, line, and sinker. The pride of the councilors gathered there wouldn't allow them to vote for anything other than war with the Zetharian. Which meant that he'd be able to return to Earth with the full support of the Jaffa Nation behind him, adding their fleet of Ha'taks to Earth's BC-303s in an effort to stop the Zetharian from advancing any further.

**End of Chapter XI**

**A/N: I'll let you guys in on a little secret: what Hailey, Daniel, and McKay found won't end the story. Believe me, we're still hovering somewhere around the halfway point. There's still a lot more to come before these characters take their final bow.**


	12. Plans

**_Stargate: Genesis_  
Written By: The Ascended Ancient  
Chapter XII: "Plans"**

**To elitenova: I'm sorry, but I honestly have no idea what you were trying to say in your review.**

Deep beneath Cheyenne Mountain, in the base known as Stargate Command, Brigadier General Samantha Carter walked into a research lab, only to collide with Doctor Rodney McKay as he ran out.

"McKay," Carter greeted. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Briefing," McKay explained. "We're about to deliver our findings to General Landry."

"What did you find?" Carter asked. McKay answered her question, and the general's eyes widened.

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"So, you're telling me that there is a way to kill these things?" Landry asked the four scientists gathered before him. Though she had no part in this discovery, General Carter was joining Major Hailey and Doctors McKay and Jackson in this briefing.

"Well, yes, sir," McKay replied. "Albeit, it's not an easy way, but it is a way."

"What is it?" Landry asked McKay.

"Well," McKay began, "we've analyzed data from every battle so far, trying to determine why the fighters didn't repair themselves. Now, we developed this analysis program that..."

"Just give me the bottom line, doctor," Hank interrupted, slightly annoyed by McKay's long explanation.

"Seventy percent, sir," Hailey said. "Every fighter that had more than seventy percent of its total mass destroyed just... combusted."

"So you're saying that if we destroy seventy percent of a cruiser or foot soldier, it'll just blow up?" Landry asked her.

"Most likely, sir," Hailey replied.

"The Ancient Database talked about a maximum tolerance point for Sallium," Daniel explained. "There is only so much it's capable of regenerating."

"I see," Landry said. "Well, then, how do you all suggest we destroy seventy percent of these cruisers and soldiers?" The four of them looked at each other.

"We're not sure yet," Hailey replied. "But just the discovery of that seventy percent limit is a step in the right direction."

"I am very much aware of that, major," Landry told her. "Now I want you working on finding a way to make some sort of practical use of this discovery. Dismissed." The four scientists turned and walked out of the room. Before they had finished walking down the stairs, alarms went off, and the voice of the gate operator could be heard announcing an unauthorized off world activation. Landry raced out of his office and into the control room.

"Receiving IDC, sir," the operator announced. "It's Teal'c."

"Open the iris," Landry ordered. The large, metal disc that covered the event horizon of the Earth Stargate spun open, and Teal'c was able to step through. General Landry left the control room and walked into the gate room to greet him.

"Teal'c," Landry said as the massive Jaffa walked towards him. "I hope you come bearing good news."

"I do, General Landry," Teal'c replied. "The Jaffa High Council has voted in favor of assisting the people of this world in the war with the Zetharian."

"That certainly counts as good news," Landry told him with a smile.

"The council has assigned me to remain on this world and coordinate our joint efforts," Teal'c added.

"Good," Landry said. "Now, if you'll join me in my office, I was about to set up a conference call with General Hammond."

"I believed General Hammond to have retired," Teal'c said, arching an eyebrow.

"He's doing us a favor," Landry explained. Teal'c merely nodded and followed the general out of the room.

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"I'm telling you, there is absolutely no way she could've spoken to you," Doctor Carolyn Lam explained to Captain Reynolds.

"I'm telling you, just for a moment, it _was_ her!" he insisted. "Somehow, she's still in there."

"Look, I'm no expert on this kind of condition," Carolyn admitted, "but everything I've seen so far indicates that Leslie Crawford's consciousness has been completely destroyed by the Zetharian." Daryl shook his head, not wanting to believe what she was telling him. "Look, in my opinion," Lam continued, "it was wishful thinking. If you want to see something so badly, you sometimes do, even if it isn't there."

"Maybe you're right," Daryl mumbled, a sad look coming over his face.

"Daryl, you need to see someone about this," Carolyn told him. "And you need to stop seeing her."

"Maybe," he said before he turned around and walked out of the infirmary.

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"No, no, no!" Rodney said, extremely agitated by the others' ideas. "There is no superweapon we can build to stop them!"

"Then what do you suggest we do, Rodney?" Carter demanded. "Just keep shooting until we do enough damage?"

"Why not?" McKay asked. "Look, just listen to me for a second. We now have the Jaffa on our side. We know that the weapons on a Jaffa Mothership have a wider blast radius than our own. We include them in a battle group of, say, fifteen ships, all concentrating their fire on one Zetharian Cruiser. That many hits by railguns, missiles, and plasma fire will definitely destroy more than seventy percent."

"I'm not arguing that it won't," Sam replied. "I just think that by the time you manage to destroy one enemy ship, our losses will far outweigh our gains."

"Even if we do loose one or two ships along the way," McKay argued, "our fleet vastly outnumbers the Zetharian's. We can afford those losses."

"Ok," Carter said softly, trying to keep her rage contained, "skipping over the fact that you just called thousands of men and women expendable assets, there is one more major flaw in your plan. The Zetharian creates its ships out of Sallium. And every planet its conquered has had its natural resources converted into Sallium. So, if it needed to, I think it could definitely increase the size of its fleet over a very short time."

"But what if it can't?" McKay asked. "What if the dozen or so ships we know it has are all it can produce?"

"And how could you come to that conclusion?" Carter argued.

"Because if it could produce more, why hasn't it?" McKay demanded.

"Because it doesn't need to!" Carter shouted. "Its handful of ships has been able to defeat us at every turn. There's no reason to build more."

"Alright!" Hailey interrupted. She and Daniel had been off to the side, listening in every-growing frustration as the two scientists argued. Finally, Hailey had decided to intervene. "Now, I'm sorry, Rodney, but I'm siding with Sam on this one."

"Me too," Daniel said, stepping forward. Rodney looked at the three people standing before him, stuttering as he tried to get out an argument. Finally, he just sighed and gave up.

"Ok," he told them. "What do you guys think we should do?"

"Develop a weapon that can destroy seventy percent of a Zetharian Cruiser faster than continuous bombardment," Hailey replied, walking over to a computer. "And, on that note, I already have an idea for that." She pressed a few buttons on the keyboard and brought up an image of some sort of bomb or missile.

"A bunker-buster?" Carter asked.

"A what?" Daniel asked her.

"A bomb designed to burrow a certain distance underground before exploding," Sam explained. "The military uses them to destroy underground bunkers, hence the name bunker-buster."

"If we could modify one of these to burrow its way inside a Zetharian ship," Hailey continued, "and packed it with a large explosive..."

"It could take out a huge chunk of the ship from within," Carter finished. Jennifer smiled.

"Exactly," she replied.

"Well, this is something," Sam said, sitting down next to her. "Now let's just make it work."

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Two days later, they were still working on the design for the Z-Buster, as McKay had coined it. They were making progress, but it would take some more time before they were truly finished. As they worked, the phone rang. Carter walked over and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" she asked. "General, how are you? Yes, our work is going... No, I didn't authorize any... What?" Carter was absolutely livid. "General, you need to get in touch with those ships _now_! Get them back here!" Carter hung up the phone and stormed over to McKay.

"What the hell were you thinking?" she demanded.

"Sam, what's going on?" Daniel asked.

"This weasel went over our head to General Hammond!" Carter shouted. "A battle group of 303s and Ha'taks are on their way to engage several Zetharian vessels."

"The Zetharian is spreading throughout the galaxy!" McKay argued. "While we sit here designing this weapon, more and more worlds are falling! We need to show the Zetharian that we aren't going to sit back and let it happen, maybe slow down its advance a bit."

"Or convince it that it needs to build more ships!" Carter told him. "Until we have a good countermeasure against them, we need to keep the odds in our favor. And so far, we have been able to hold off Zetharian battle groups with minimal casualties. What you have just done, Rodney, may have upset the balance of power in this war so severely that we may not be able to recover!"

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In orbit over P3Q-976, three Zetharian Cruisers fought against five BC-303s and ten Ha'taks. The 303s and the Ha'taks concentrated their fire on the lead cruiser, ignoring all the others. The target ship's shields failed almost instantly, and the hull started to get torn apart. However, the Zetharian ships weren't just giving up. They were firing at the attacking vessels, and inflicting some pretty heavy damage. But, as one of the 303s exploded in a massive fireball, the target Zetharian vessel split in half. Fires broke out on the hull, sweeping across it until the entire ship had been engulfed in one massive fireball.

Unfortunately, the other two Zetharian ships were still attacking. Before the fourteen remaining ships in the allied battle group could bring their weapons to bear on another one, three additional ships had been destroyed, and two more were suffering heavy damage. On the bridge of the _Constantine_, the flagship of the battle group, Colonel Mitchell knew that they couldn't take out another ship without suffering heavy losses. With a sigh of resignation, Mitchell ordered his ships to jump into hyperspace. They had inflicted damage on their enemy, but it wasn't enough.

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On P4X-337, Jeremy Spalding felt the pain of one of his ships being destroyed. Once more, rage filled him. His small battle groups had been doing well so far, but now, it seemed, the enemy was becoming more organized. And they had enlisted the aid of the Jaffa nation, quadrupling the size of their fleet. This was not going as easily as he had hoped, and it was likely to get worse before it got better.

And so Jeremy decided to begin producing more warships. He needed them now. If they were beginning to find ways to counter his advanced technology, then he'd have to beat them through superior numbers.

**End of Chapter XII**

**A/N: To all you McKay fans out there, I'm sorry, but I couldn't go a whole story without having his ego get him in trouble.**


	13. Worlds Lost

**_Stargate: Genesis_  
Written By: The Ascended Ancient  
Chapter XIII: "Worlds Lost"**

**A/N: Ok, some of you are going to hate me for how this chapter starts out...**

On the planet Cimmeria, Gairwyn, a leader of her people, was hard at work on her farm. She looked up at the sky and praised Thor that it was a good day. So far that harvest season, the weather had not been pleasant for the work she knew she must perform. Today, however, was absolutely perfect, and she intended to take full advantage of it.

As she worked, she thought back to events that had happened so many years ago, when the travelers from Midgar arrived. Their arrival had changed everything for her. Now, she was burdened with the knowledge that Thor was not a god, though he possessed the powers of one. She had seen his true face, and was ashamed that she had been initially repulsed by it. God or not, Thor had been responsible for saving her people from the Etins, and for that, she was eternally grateful.

Suddenly, she was startled out of her reminiscence by a large explosion. She looked up quickly, staring off at the massive fireball in the distance. Suddenly, an orange ball of energy flew out of the sky and struck another spot on the ground. Before she knew it, the sky came alive, with thousands of these balls of fire falling from it. Gairwyn's eyes widened as she realized what it was.

_The Etins!_ she thought. _They have returned!_ Quickly, she turned around and ran into her home, dropping her tools on the ground. When she had finally reached her bedroom, she reached under the bed and pulled out an unusual box. This was the token that the travelers from Midgar had given her. Should she ever want to contact them or travel to their world, she must first send this box through what the travelers called the 'Stargate'. Clutching the box to her chest, she ran from her home. All around her, Cimmeria was burning. But that didn't stop her. Gairwyn ran along many roads, passed through a town, and, finally, reached the 'Stargate'. Along the way, she had called out to her people, beckoning them to follow her. When she reached the dialing pedestal, she pressed the buttons that would allow her to reach Midgar. With a loud fwoosh, the Stargate activated. Gairwyn threw the box through the vertical puddle and waited. The seconds ticked away slowly. Then, decided the people of Midgar had enough time to receive her signal, she raced through the gate. Following her were dozens of Cimmerians, all hoping to escape the devastation going on around them.

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In the S.G.C., General Carter walked up the steps into the control room on her way to General Landry's office. Rodney shouldn't have gone over her head and sent out those ships. It was stupid and reckless, and had accomplished nothing. Sure, they had destroyed one Zetharian ship, but they had lost three of their own in the process.

Before she was halfway up the steps to the briefing room, alarms began to go off. Carter quickly turned around and headed back to the control room. Moments later, the gate activated, and the Iris closed.

"What is it this time?" General Landry asked as he walked into the gate room.

"I don't..." Carter was cut off by a familiar thud on the Iris.

"Sir, we're getting some sort of radioactive signature from whatever it was that..." the gate operator began.

"Open the Iris," Carter ordered. "Now." Glancing quickly at General Landry, who nodded in approval, the gate operator placed his hand on the palm print scanner that controlled the Iris, causing it to open. Moments later, Gairwyn, followed by dozens of Cimmerians, ran through the gate. Carter quickly turned around and ran into the gate room.

"Gairwyn," she greeted.

"Captain Carter," Gairwyn said in turn. "I am glad to see you." Sam didn't bother telling Gairwyn that she'd been promoted; it wasn't appropriate just then.

"Gairwyn, why are you and all these people here?" Carter asked.

"Cimmeria has been attacked by the Etins," Gairwyn explained. "I gathered as many people as I could and journeyed through the Stargate to come here, to Midgar. Please, you must help us."

"Of course we will," Sam assured her, glancing up at Landry, who was watching through the control room windows. _This could be a problem_, Sam thought, sincerely hoping that her budding suspicions were wrong.

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"So the Goa'uld attacked Cimmeria?" Landry asked once Daniel, Teal'c, and Sam had finished going over their past experiences on the planet.

"Not necessarily," Daniel told him. "The Goa'uld are the only hostile, space-fairing race the Cimmerians know of. If it was just an orbital bombardment, like Gairwyn says, she probably just assumed it was the Goa'uld."

"So, we do think that this was the work of the Zetharian?" Landry asked.

"Yes, we do," Daniel replied.

"But I thought we were in the process of evacuating all the Zetharian's next targets?" Landry said. "Why weren't we working on this one?"

"Because it wasn't one of the Zetharian's next targets, sir," Carter explained. "So far, the Zetharian has been targeting planets that fall within an ever-expanding radius of P4X-337. Cimmeria shouldn't have been targeted for another few weeks. The fact that it was suggests that this wasn't just another conquest. The Zetharian selected this planet for a reason, and I think I know why." She took a deep breath. "It's after Earth."

"It's always been after Earth, General," Landry told her.

"I know, sir," Carter replied. "But now it appears to have made conquering Earth its top priority. Before it was content to gradually expand, but it just made a massive leap in Earth's direction. I'd say were a big target now."

"I guess the fact that we're starting to figure out weaknesses in its technology convinced it that we're a much bigger threat now," Daniel said.

"So how do you propose we deal with this?" Landry asked. Carter shrugged.

"Proceed with developing a weapon capable of destroying the enemy cruisers," she replied.

"Then I suggest you get back to work," Landry ordered.

"Yes, sir." Carter turned around and left the room, followed by Daniel.

"I shall have a Jaffa scout ship travel to Cimmeria to assess the situation there," Teal'c told General Landry before he, too, left.

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In the storage room that Leslie was contained in, Daryl Reynolds sat on a chair, staring at her intently. Leslie stared back, a look of annoyance on her face.

"Why, why won't you just leave me alone?" she asked. "It's bad enough being here; why do I have to endure your presence?"

"Because I'm not about to give up on her," Daryl replied. "I know Leslie's in there somewhere, and I will bring her out."

"But what about the war?" Leslie asked. "Shouldn't you be out there fighting my forces?"

"I'm partaking in a mission to P1C-251 tomorrow," Daryl told her. "Today I've got some time off." He stood up and looked her in the eye. "And with the weapon we're almost done designing, your expansion through the galaxy will be halted, and we'll have much more time to spend together." Without another word, he turned around and left the room.

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Leslie watched gleefully as Daryl walked out of the room. She had just discovered that in addition to amusement, she could also get valuable information from him.

Of course, she already knew about the weapon. Shortly after awakening in the infirmary, she had secretly infected the base computer system with a virus. Using the virus, she had accessed a great deal of data during her imprisonment. She knew all about the project to build a weapon that could pierce the hull of a Zetharian Cruiser and explode from within. The question was what could she do about it.

And, as she was finally alone to think, Leslie pondered this dilemma. Because one way or another, she'd find a way to take advantage of the situation.

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Carter, Hailey, and Daniel were hard at work in the lab when McKay walked through the door.

"Sorry I'm late," he said as he walked over to the computer the other three scientists were working at. "What'd I miss?" Carter sighed in frustration and turned around.

"What you missed was three of our ships being destroyed and four more suffering critical damage!" she told him angrily. "What you missed was the whole point in not attacking until we have a weapon that can fight these things. What you caused was the Zetharian to start sending ten-ship battle groups instead of three."

"What are you talking about?" McKay asked.

"You're plan to use concentrated fire to overwhelm Zetharian ships," Carter explained. "It worked beautifully, but the cost of success was too high. Cimmeria was just attacked by ten Zetharian Cruisers. _Ten_, Rodney. We can barely hold our own against three!"

"I thought it was worth a..." he started to say, but Carter cut him off.

"Rodney, the Zetharian has conquered seven more worlds in the past twenty-four hours," she said. "And we have been unable to even slow them down!" Rodney just looked at her, speechless. "If you go over my head again, I will have you on the first transport back to Atlantis, do you here me?"

"Well, maybe I should go back to Atlantis!" Rodney shouted. "At least there I'm appreciated!" Furious, he stormed out of the room. Sam just sighed and turned back to her computer.

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On the planet P6D-891, Lieutenant George Banks and Sergeant Donald O'Connor led the S.G.C. soldiers in a desperate push against the Zetharian foot soldiers. They were covering the escape of several hundred civilians from this planet to Earth, where they would then be relocated to another world. But first, they had to get these people to Earth, and that wasn't easy. Especially since the Zetharian fleet had driven off their air support in less than half an hour. Now Zetharian fighters were making raids on ground emplacements, their weapons blazing trails along the ground. And the foot soldiers just kept on approaching.

From his position behind a stone barricade, George spotted a straggler. He was a young boy, probably no older than five. And right behind him was a Zetharian soldier. George didn't think, he just acted.

The Air Force Lieutenant dived between the boy and the Zetharian, unloading his clip into the creature. But the bullets barely slowed it down. It slashed his gun in half using the claws on its left hand, then aimed the weapon on its right hand at George's head. Before it could fire, however, it was struck from behind by a grenade. Looking off to the side, George saw Donald standing up, holding a grenade launcher.

Moments later, the two men were reunited behind the barricade. George got a new rifle and continued to fight to hold off the Zetharian advance.

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In a lab in the S.G.C., Rodney McKay tinkered with a device on the table. _So what if they don't think I can help_, he thought angrily. _I'll just prove them wrong_. Finally, after several days of work, he was done. Rodney picked up the device and examined it. It was a wrist-mounted, rapid-fire staff weapon, the kind Anubis's super-soldiers used to use. Rodney knew that all plasma weapons had a higher blast radius than bullet-using weapons, though they were less accurate. That meant that a plasma weapon was the first step towards developing a truly effective weapon against the Zetharian. Over the past several days, Rodney had tinkered with this device, trying to increase the blast radius and the rate of fire. He'd succeeded in doing both. Now, the only problem was convincing the powers that be that this weapon was a good idea, but he could work on that later.

Carrying the weapon with him, Rodney left the room. He would talk to General Landry right away, and get this thing into the field as soon as possible. The fate of the galaxy depended on it (and, by extension, him).

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In the gate room, the refugees from P6D-981 kept on arriving. As they did, Air Force officers shepherded them out of the room and into the designated waiting room, where they would remain until they could be relocated. In the middle of the gate room, General Landry watched as the steady stream of refugees passed him by. Seeing all these people who had just fled their homes, and knowing that was only the tip of the iceberg, made Landry wonder if they even stood a chance against this thing.

Suddenly, and much to Landry's annoyance, Doctor McKay ran into the room.

"General," the out-of-breath scientist said. "I've got something you need to see."

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Back on P6D-981, the last of the refugees ran through the gate. Surveying the battlefield, both George and Donald knew they had to get out of there _now_.

"All units, begin a retreat through the Stargate!" Banks ordered into his radio. And, slowly, the troops began to retreat through the gate. Finally, it was just Donald and George. They backed up, guns blazing, as the Zetharian troops rushed them. As they stepped through the gate, one of the creatures launched itself at them.

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George and Donald stumbled back through the gate and fell onto the ramp.

"Close the Iris!" Donald shouted. The giant, metal disc spun shut, but not before one of the Zetharian soldiers exited the gate.

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In her cell, Leslie was startled out of her thoughts by a strange sensation. _There is a Zetharian soldier on the base_, she realized. A smile broke out over her face as she took control of the creature. This far away from any Zetharian-controlled world, it would be completely helpless without her direction. And as she surveyed the gate room though its eyes, Leslie smiled even wider. _Oh, this is going to be fun..._

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In the gate room, everyone stared in horror as the Zetharian soldier raised its weapon-arm and fired into the crowd. Soldiers and civilians fell as they were struck by the orange balls of plasma that flew from the creature.

Diving over the edge of the ramp, both Donald and George took up defensive positions and began to fire at the creature, but their bullets were useless. And since they had expended all grenades on the planet, they were essentially screwed.

Off to the side of the gate room, McKay kept his head down. He was afraid, and that fear paralyzed him. But as he looked around him and saw all the people who were dying, he knew he had to act. He raised the modified wrist staff weapon and fired.

A stream of golden plasma bolts slammed into the Zetharian's chest. Immediately, the plasma began to dig a hole through the creature's body. The Zetharian turned its weapon arm towards McKay, but the doctor merely adjusted his target. In a matter of moments, he'd shot off the creature's weapon arm. And he wasn't about to stop. He just kept on shooting the thing, non-stop, until, finally, it began to convulse. Moments later, the Zetharian foot soldier burst into flames.

McKay finally lowered the weapon and turned to General Landry. "That was what I wanted to show you, sir," he said.

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In her cell, Leslie watched in horror through the soldier's eyes as Doctor McKay used some sort of modified wrist-mounted staff weapon to destroy the creature. _They're making more progress with this weapons research than I thought_, she realized. _Whatever I'm going to do, I have to do it soon._

**End of Chapter XIII**

**A/N: Look, while Rodney may be an ass most of the time, he does come through for the good guys quite frequently. Which is what I had him do this chapter. Well, keep on reviewing guys, because I'm not even close to being done yet (I think).**


	14. Turning the Tide

**_Stargate: Genesis_  
Written By: The Ascended Ancient  
Chapter XIV: "Turning the Tide"**

On the planet P1C-251, S.G.-1 fought valiantly against the Zetharian ground troops. And, for the first time since this war began, they were winning. The modified wrist-mounted staff weapons that Rodney named Wrist Blasters were shooting the crap out of the enemy. One by one, the Zetharian foot soldiers burst into flames, and the S.G.C. personnel gained ground instead of loosing it.

However, they couldn't advance far before Zetharian fighters began to make strafing runs on the surface. Since the Z-Buster hadn't been finished yet, Zetharian ships still dominated the battles. And when the ground troops were driven back, the ships came in.

On the ground, Daryl Reynolds looked up at the ships as they sewed fire across the lovely grasslands of this planet. Several meters behind him at the Stargate, the last of this planet's refugees had just gotten through. Now that they were gone, Daryl knew he should order the retreat.

But he didn't. He stood up from where he was crouched behind a fallen stone structure and aimed his wrist blaster at an approaching fighter. A stream of golden plasma flew from the device, and struck the fighter head-on. Bit by bit, the weapon damaged its target. But it wasn't enough. The fighter was much bigger than the soldiers, and it took longer to destroy it. Long before Daryl ever reached that point, the fighter began to spew bright, orange balls of plasma at him.

"Get down!" Lieutenant Banks screamed, tackling Daryl to the ground. Moments later, the barricade they were behind shuddered with the impact of the fighter's weapons. Daryl shoved George off of him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Daryl demanded.

"I'd ask you the same thing," George replied. "The civilians are all gone; there's no reason to stay here!" Daryl stared at him for a few moments, then turned on his radio.

"All units," the captain said, "retreat through the gate!"

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Several minutes later, the ground troops stepped through the Stargate into the S.G.C. At the base of the ramp, General Landry was waiting for them.

"I take it the mission was more or less successful?" he asked.

"Definitely," Donald replied as he helped carry a wounded soldier off the ramp.

"The new weapons were extremely effective, sir," Daryl explained. "We were able to do some serious damage to the enemy's ground troops."

Good work," Landry said. "You'll all be debriefed 1900. Dismissed."

The troops filed out of the gate room and walked through the various corridors of the base until they reached their quarters. As soon as Daryl reached his, George grabbed him and shoved him inside.

"Wha..." Daryl started to say, but George cut him off.

"What the hell were you doing out there?" he demanded, closing the door behind them.

"What are you talking about?" Daryl asked.

"You taking on a Zetharian fighter by yourself!" George replied. "You knew you didn't stand a chance!"

"Well, we have to do something!" Daryl argued. "We may be winning more on the ground, but the Zetharian ships..."

"No, this wasn't about our tactical situation," George said harshly. "This was about Leslie." Daryl just stared at him. "We all feel bad about what happened to her, Daryl. But we accept that she's gone."

"She's not gone," Daryl told him softly. "She's still in there, somewhere." George felt a wave of pity wash over him.

"Daryl," he said comfortingly, "Leslie's gone. I know how you felt about her, we all did. Hell, the only two people who didn't know what was going on between the two of you were... the two of you. So I know this is harder for you than it is for us." He sighed. "But Daryl, you need to get over this. You need to move on with your life. And, most importantly, since you're leading troops into battle, you need to be able to set your emotions aside. You weren't able to do that today." George's expression became serious.

"Now, I didn't say anything until now because I didn't want to get you in trouble with General Landry," Lieutenant Banks explained. "But if you do something like this again, I swear to god I will place the safety of the men you're leading over my friendship with you." Without another word, George turned and walked out of the room.

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"You weren't too hard on him, were you?" Major Hailey asked. She, Lieutenant Banks, and Sergeant O'Connor were in the mess having dinner together and discussing the situation with Captain Reynolds.

"I tried to be reassuring," George replied. "But he put the lives of fellow service men in danger today. I had to let him know where I stood on that." Hailey sighed in frustration.

"You really don't know how to moderate, do you?" she asked him. "You're either very cheerful or very angry. You don't know how to do in between."

"No I don't," George replied with a goofy smile, eliciting small laughs from his companions.

"So, were he and Colonel Crawford... involved?" Donald asked.

"No," Jennifer replied. "They've just been very close friends for the entire time we served together, much closer than the rest of us."

"They probably would've gotten together," George added, "if they weren't so damned unemotional." Hailey chuckled. "I'm serious," he continued. "The two of them could deal with hostile aliens and tricky negotiations and ignorant cadets, but they couldn't deal with their feelings towards each other."

"And now Leslie is gone," Donald said intuitively. "And he's finally realized how much he cares about her, hasn't he?"

"I think so," Hailey replied. "I only hope this doesn't destroy him."

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Daryl Reynolds walked into Leslie Crawford's prison. He took a few steps in and stared straight at her. The tall, blonde woman was floating in mid-air, contained in an anti-gravity field so she couldn't infect anything in the base.

"God damnit," she greeted him. "Why do you keep coming back?"

"Because I have to," he replied solemnly, and Leslie just sighed in frustration.

"Haven't you spent enough..." she started to say, but trailed off as an odd look came over her face.

"Daryl," she croaked, and the captain's eyes widened.

"Leslie?" he whispered.

"Oh, Daryl, please..." she begged. "Please... help..." Suddenly, the pained expression vanished from her face, replaced by the hard irritated appearance she had before.

"Time here," Leslie finished, spitting out the last two words like a curse. But Daryl wasn't dissuaded. He had once again seen evidence that Leslie was in there somewhere, and he wasn't going to give up on her.

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Leslie Crawford resisted the urge to break out laughing. This fool was so easy to manipulate.

Of course, she had more important things on her mind than screwing with some human's mind. The humans of this world were dangerously close to developing a weapon that could deal serious damage to the Zetharian space fleet. She couldn't allow that to happen.

And yet, she couldn't step in and stop them. Because she only had one shot at interfering with their work, and she couldn't waste it now. No, she'd let them build their weapon and start to use it. Then she'd make sure that the Zetharian learned everything it needed to make that weapon completely useless.

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"So, it's ready?" General Landry asked. Standing before him were Colonel Carter, Doctors McKay and Jackson, and Major Hailey. They had just placed a folder on his desk with the final schematics for the Z-Buster weapon they'd been working on for so long.

"As ready as it'll be without being tested," Carter replied. "We recommend a prototype weapons system be built and installed on a BC-303 immediately."

"And both I and the director agree with that," Landry replied. "You'll have everything you could possibly need, Colonel. Dismissed."

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**Twenty-Eight Days Later... (A/N: Nice little pun, if I do say so myself)**

The _Prometheus_, flanked by a dozen 303s and Jaffa Motherships, dropped out of hyperspace over the Jaffa world Galanda. This planet had been attacked by fifteen Zetharian vessels just two days ago, finally falling several hours ago. Now, the _Prometheus_ was here to exact revenge for that attack.

On the bridge of the oldest human warship, Colonel Cameron Mitchell stared out the forward viewport at the enemy armada spread out before them. The fifteen vessels didn't look too intimidating, but they'd all learned that looks are _definitely_ deceiving.

_I hope this works_, he thought.

"Bring the new weapons array on-line," Mitchell ordered, the insecurity he was feeling banished from his mind. "Helm, bring sublight engines to full power. Take us straight at the closest Zetharian ship. Instruct all the other ships in the armada to do the same." The bridge officers quickly complied with his orders. "The moment that ship's shields go down," Cam continued, "hit it with the new weapon." _And pray for a miracle_, Cameron added silently. He didn't have much faith in this new weapon. He'd been in too many battles for that. He'd watched as the Zetharian took everything they threw at it and kept on coming.

But they needed this victory. They needed to start turning the tide. Because if they didn't, things would get worse. Moral was low; the troops were beginning to feel that there was no way to win. And as long as they felt like that, they were less effective. So this had to work. It just _had_ to.

But whether or not it would, they were committed to this attack.

The _Prometheus_ and its fellow warships closed in on the lead Zetharian vessel with frightening speed. The moment they were in range, they started to shoot at it with every rail gun and plasma cannon they had. The shields of the enemy ships glowed for a brief time as it resisted the barrage, but eventually they failed. As soon as they did, Mitchell gave that one, crucial order, and crossed his fingers.

From the nose of the _Prometheus_, a single missile launched out at the Zetharian ship. It struck the hull, but didn't detonate. Instead, it burrowed its way into the ship, going through several decks. _Then_ it exploded.

And what an explosion it was. The entire front half of the ships went up in one big fireball. But seventy percent of the ship hadn't been destroyed yet.

"Fire a second one!" Mitchell ordered, and weapons officer replied. Another one of the Z-Buster weapons was launched. It too, struck the ship and penetrated the hull. And in one massive, resounding explosion, the entire Zetharian ship exploded.

The cheer that rose from his fellow officers was so loud Mitchell nearly lost his hearing from it.

"Ok!" he shouted over the commotion. "Let's keep hitting these guys until we're all out of ordinance. Then we go back to Earth and tell 'em the good news."

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"Thirteen Zetharian ships destroyed, you say?" Director O'Neill asked.

"Yes, sir," Colonel Mitchell replied. "We would've destroyed the other two as well, but we were out of Z-Busters."

"Z-Busters?" O'Neill asked with a smile.

"Doctor McKay's name for the new weapon," Mitchell explained. "It kinda stuck."

"Yeah," Jack said nonchalantly. "I can see why." He searched through some papers on his desk for a moment, then looked up at Cameron. "Good work, Colonel," he said. "Dismissed."

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In her cell, Leslie Crawford analyzed the data being sent to the S.G.C. from the warship _Prometheus_. All of it was very interesting, and all of it provided her with a very interesting view on the problem. The traditional Zetharian reaction to this would be to strengthen shields and hull integrity, but the next weapons, the ones that would be mass-produced would be fifteen times as powerful. Sallium was a very versatile substance, but it had limits. However, the humans' technology used a variety of substances with different and adjustable limits. No, they would continue to adapt long after the Zetharian lost the ability to do so. The only to do in this situation was think outside the box. She had been doing that for an hour, and believed she had come up with a solution.

_The only problem_, she thought, _is getting what I know to the rest of the Zetharian._ Oh, well. She'd find a way. It was only a matter of time...

**End of Chapter XIV**

**A/N: Yet another chapter done. We're somewhere between two-thirds and three-fourths of the way through this story, by the way. My goal is to be done by January 6 (The day new episodes of S.G.-1 and Atlantis begin airing in the US). So, hopefully I'll make my deadline.**


	15. The Virus

**_Stargate: Genesis_  
Written By: The Ascended Ancient  
Chapter XV: "The Virus"**

**  
**In the control room of the S.G.C., the gate operating staff of the S.G.C. are having a slow night. No off-world activations meant lots of downtime. So when the screens on the computer consoles in front of them flickered a bit, they didn't really notice. That is, until the gate began to dial.

Without the usual alarms that accompany such an action, the Stargate's inner track began to spin. All three gate operators stood up, staring in horror at the gate as the first chevron was engaged. One of the operators pressed a button on the console in front of him, and then the alarms went off.

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In her cell, Leslie smiled. She had taken her chance, and so far, it was working. She just needed a wormhole open for 12.937 seconds. That would be enough time to tell the Zetharian everything she knew about the weapon.

_And_, she thought with glee, _while everyone's focusing on the gate, I'll have a clear shot at the weapon itself_. Oh, this was going to be fun.

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S.G.C. troops raced into the gate room as the fifth chevron was engaged. In the control room, General Carter and Doctor McKay frantically tried to shut down the dialing sequence, but they couldn't.

"We're locked out of the system," Carter told General Landry. "Something has overridden all the command protocols."

"Can we at least close the Iris?" Landry asked. Carter pressed her hand on the palm-print scanner, and the Iris closed.

"Yes, sir," she replied.

"General," McKay said anxiously. "Whatever's doing this... it's dialing P4X-337." There was silence in the room as everyone realized what that meant. General Landry grabbed the microphone on the console.

"This is General Landry," he said into it. "I want three full security teams at Leslie Crawford's cell immediately!"

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The door to Leslie's 'cell' burst open, and a squad of S.G.C. soldiers barged in. Crawford smiled. So they had figured out that she was behind this. It didn't matter. They couldn't stop her.

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With a fwoosh, the gate activated. The moment it did, a high-pitched screech was broadcast over every speaker in the base. S.G.C. personnel pressed their hands to their ears, the sound so high-pitched that it was painful. Then, just as quickly as it had started, the screech ended, and the gate deactivated.

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In her cell, Leslie smiled even wider than she already was. Her plan was having some unexpected benefits, one of which was being able to send the base's command codes to the Zetharian. She had never thought that she could take over this much of the base, at least, not without being stopped. But so far, nothing had come up to stop her.

_And_, she thought happily, _I may just be able to make sure that the Zetharian can conquer Earth... today_. But even as she thought that, she felt her connection to the S.G.C. computer system suddenly become severed. Her eyes widened as she remembered the only race with the power to do that.

_The Asgard_...

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In orbit over Earth, the Asgard Mothership _O'Neill_, the second vessel to bear that name, beamed all the Sallium probes out of the S.G.C.'s computer systems. On the bridge of the _O'Neill_, Thor, Supreme Commander of the Asgard fleet, feared what a Zetharian presence on Earth meant. If the Zetharian had truly escaped containment, then this galaxy, and indeed, the entire universe, was in grave danger.

Once he was certain all the Zetharian technology had been removed from the S.G.C., Thor decided that he should personally visit his old friends on Earth.

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In the control room of the S.G.C., McKay and Carter stared at the display monitors as control of the base was suddenly returned to them. They didn't know why this was happening; they certainly hadn't done anything.

Suddenly, there was a bright flash of light. Everyone in the room turned towards it, and they all found themselves face-to-face with Thor.

"Thor," Carter said, realization dawning on her.

"Greetings, General Carter," Thor replied. "I detected a Zetharian presence in your base computer systems, and felt it would be prudent to remove it."

"Thor, what were you doing here in the first place?" Carter asked.

"Reparations to Asgard worlds in our home galaxy after the defeat of the Replicators have been completed," Thor explained. "The Asgard High Council wished for me to re-formalize our treaty with your world."

"Well, I guess your timing was impeccable," Landry commented. "As for treaty negotiations, if you'll join me in my office, we'll get right to work on that."

**End of Chapter XV**

**A/N: I'm very sorry, people, but my interest in this story is waning. I love how it's become so popular, and I want to finish it for you. And, who knows, maybe I will. But for now, here's a brief chapter, a token of apology from me. I hate to cut you off like this, but it's likely that this will be the last update for a very, very long time. **

**Actually, I do have an idea of how to keep this story alive. I know I have a lot of loyal fans out there, and if you'd be so kind, I'll turn control of this story over to you. Volunteer through reviewing, and I'll send you an outline of what I had planned for the rest of the story. Then you write a chapter, e-mail it to me, and I'll post it. Whoever does the writing will be credited for it.**

**Other than that, I'm done with this story. So, this is The Ascended Ancient, signing off.**


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